Butcher, Baker & Friends
by CeleryLapel
Summary: Shirley needs help with a case Crossover fic: "Community" and "The Butcher and The Baker"
1. Chapter 1

**Butcher, Baker & Friends**

 **Summary: Shirley needs help with a case**

 **xxxx**

 **A/N:**

 **Tumblr Community Appreciation Week 2018; Day 6: Crossover fic**

 **Crossover: "Community" and "The Butcher and The Baker"**

 **xxxxx**

Chapter 1

Shirley sat in the corner booth of the local diner, kneading the straps of her bag. She didn't know what, but she had to do something. The whole situation was a mess.

It had started out in the best way possible, given the circumstances. She had uprooted herself and moved to Atlanta in order to care for her ailing father, who was in the late stages of renal disease. Leaving her boys was hard, but she knew it would only be a few months. She initially tried to take little Ben with her, but Andre had probably been right that it was best to keep the boys together. Since she and Andre were legally separated anyway, she didn't have much right to take the kids out of state, and again it was supposed to only be for a few months. She didn't want to disrupt their lives, so she said her goodbyes and agreed to Skype often, and she and Andre had actually parted on somewhat amicable terms.

She left Shirley Sandwiches in Britta's care, which didn't sit right with her, but she had a secret pact with Gilbert that he would keep an eye on things for her, given that he had inherited Pierce's half of the business as well as the mansion. She supposed Pierce had wanted to leave Gilbert something even if the bulk of his fortune went to Troy.

Poor Troy sailing the world. She hoped to the Lord in heaven that the boy was okay. Sometimes she tossed and turned at nights fretting about him. Pierce had always been an ass about insinuating that she and Troy were related, but part of her deep down had always viewed him as kind of an older son. She knew he had no mama, and that just didn't seem right.

Her mind went back to her own boys. It was supposed to only be a few months. In order to bring in some money in caring for her father, who didn't have much, she had taken on a job as a chef for a paraplegic Detective Devon Butcher. It had a been a pretty decent gig, given that Detective Butcher allowed her to work at night, prepping all the meals and then she could spend her days caring for her father.

Within a few months, her father had passed. It was very sad, but she had been glad that she had devoted some time to him in his last days. Andre, bless his heart, had flown down with the kids and they all went to the funeral. She had stayed behind to pack up some things and settle her father's affairs, intent on rejoining her family in Colorado within a couple weeks. Detective Butcher, with a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, told her he understood and was happy for her. She promised him she'd help him find a replacement chef.

Poor and troubled Detective Butcher. That man had a seriously tragic life, becoming paralyzed while pursuing a suspect who had ended up killing his wife.

Devon? No, Detective Butcher.

He was always Detective Butcher.

But now things had become more intimate. Not in a romantic sense, that would be insane. He was a skinny white man and she certainty wasn't attracted to him. But she had left the house one night and forgotten her phone, quickly realizing and turning around. The house had been quiet, but she spied the study door ajar, a light from within. Detective Butcher was normally asleep at this hour, and she had rushed in, luckily stopping him in the knick of time. Seconds later would have been too late.

He put up a good front about it all, but now she saw the cracks. He had pushed off her urgings to take him to the hospital, but she insisted on staying, keeping him within eyesight the remainder of the night. They had stayed up talking, and by the end of it all she had somehow reignited his will to live and vowed to help him solve the case that left him paralyzed and led to the loss of his wife.

They had solved it within the week, and it all wrapped up nicely. She then mentioned leaving again, and the now more robust Detective Butcher (Devon?) had patted her arm and encouraged her to get on with her life. He would be fine, he said, and was looking forward to returning full time to the force.

Within a day it had been determined that Detective Butcher couldn't get along with any of the police department rules, and he had quit in disgust. He had attempted to open his own detective business, insisting he could do it all on his own. She had helped him begin to set up the office, again intent on leaving in a few days, but then she had spied the clue that helped them solve the case of the yellow orchid. The accused robber had confessed by Thursday, and then they had found the actual robber by Friday, his face shriveling under Shirley's glare.

It had been so exciting. Much more exciting than running Shirley's sandwiches. She ignored the additional fluster she had begun to feel around Detective (Devon?) Butcher, for she had no time for any funny business, and he seemed to feel the same. Sure, everyone kept mistaking them for a couple, but on each occasion they would both laugh and then get slightly uncomfortable before returning to the case at hand.

The case at hand. She had needed to postpone her return to Greendale, for a body showed up on the steps of the local community college, and that would never do. She knew she could help, and her offer was greeted with an initially begrudging acceptance from the dear Detective.

The call from Britta had confused her. Of course she knew Britta would be expecting her back, but it wasn't that simple. The waiver in her voice had probably tipped her off, and soon enough she received a call from Annie, who ended up sweetly and then kind of viciously interrogating her, and then soon enough Jeff was on the line and being his smooth and lawyerly self. She was so startled she didn't think of questioning why he was with Annie in DC. They had ended the call with Jeff getting all testy with her about her leaving her kids, which was kind of a low blow. She heard Annie yelling at him in the background before she grabbed the phone back, but Shirley refused to talk to Annie and hung up.

Then Abed called, and it was weird. He told her to be at this diner at eleven in the morning. Well, here she was.

"Shirley?"

She should have known, but she never really believed it would be true, figuring Abed was just engaging in some absurd imaginary scenario. But no, he was here. She smiled at him and instantly felt a rush of relief. She jumped out of the booth and while holding onto her bag, pulled the Tan Greyhound into a hug.

He awkwardly patted her back and as they moved out of the embrace, appeared to study her. There was a hint of a tear in his left eye, but it vanished as he began to speak.

"It's good to see you. Let's sit down and you can tell me about this mess."

Shirley bit her lip and started to squirm before she regained her senses and slapped him on his bony arm. She huffed, "Abed! Why didn't you let me pick you up from the airport? And why are you here?!"

He cocked his head and explained, "I told you to be here. I assumed you'd fill in the rest. And I wanted our reunion scene to take place in an atmosphere more conducive to discussing murder, which let's face it, is probably not an airport."

She paused to consider this, and somehow it made sense. She motioned for them to sit, and then she leaned forward to tell him her tale. As she filled him in on the various crazy events of the past few days, he nodded and jotted things down in a notebook he produced from his slim vinyl bag. The waitress approached, and Abed placed an order for black coffee and cherry pie before settling back into his listener role. As Shirley talked, she spied a small suitcase by his side, and wondered what various wardrobe changes might be inside and how long he was planning on staying, but she didn't want to ask.

She had missed him so much.

As she concluded her tale, he nodded once again and closed the notebook. Taking a long sip of coffee, he looked up and met her gaze.

"Well, this is a pickle all right, but I think we can solve this case." He then dove his fork into his slice of pie.

Shirley shook her head, not feeling the urge to eat any pie, and she briefly wondered what he thought Atlanta was like. There certainly were no pines. She sighed and said, "I just don't know what to do. I'm usually pretty good at piecing information together, but this case is eluding me. I just don't know."

Abed slowly chewed and seemed to think some things through. After a minute of complete silence, he took another sip of coffee and then replaced the cup in its saucer. He let out a satisfied ahhh and turned toward the waitress.

"Well, this is one damn fine cup of coffee! Best I've ever had. And this pie. Damn fine indeed."

The waitress blushed and made some small talk with Abed for a little bit, and Shirley looked at her watch.

"Abed! We have to go! Devon…the Detective, um, Detective Butcher needs me." She began to gather her purse as Abed wiggled his brows.

He turned back toward the waitress and said, "I'll be back, Shelly."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

They made their way to the swamps of Atlanta and eventually approached the large house at the end of a winding and squishy road. It was a semi-gothic old Southern mansion, but being in the swamps for some reason, it didn't seem that pretentious. Abed took a moment to take a few pictures and record some thoughts into his digital recorder before Shirley had enough and forcibly maneuvered him into the house.

Shirley ushered him into the back of the first floor toward the Detective's quarters. Each time she approached the room since that awful night, she felt a pang at fearing that he would do something stupid again. Sometimes he reminded her of Jeff, the way he drank and the way he was so quick to give up on himself. But she comforted herself with the fact that he knew she cared and had promised, just like Jeff had after that other awful day in the hospital, he wouldn't try to hurt himself again.

Poor Jeff. That boy sure had some problems, and she flashed back to the night they had talked privately before she had moved away. He had been more candid with her than he probably had anyone, and although she was touched he chose to be vulnerable with her, she was saddened that it took her leaving to get him to go there and confess his thoughts that had opened the door to the underground bunker.

Her heart warmed a little at her creeping suspicion that Jeff had found the courage after all to tell Annie how he felt. Although she didn't approve of the age difference, she did think Jeff and Annie brought out the best in each other. She really wasn't sure if they would last, if in fact they were doing anything that is (and they better not be doing anything sinful), but she supposed Jeff leaving the state of Colorado, even if for a platonic visit, was a milestone. She had overheard his confession to Troy and knew that he tended to exaggerate his accomplishments. Poor man deep down really was Tinkletown.

Now she was very proud of Annie getting that internship in DC. She was a smart girl, and she supposed she was now a grown woman. She hadn't really taken to her at first, being such a know-it-all and making cracks about her age, but overtime she had learned to respect her, and vice versa. Served that girl right if she ended up with a man who is in fact Shirley's age, even if no one ever seemed to understand that.

She shook herself back to the present moment, and knocked on the door of the den.

"Bennett? Come in."

She entered first, opening the French doors and then pushing back the lace curtains to reveal Detective Butcher's back as he sat in his wheelchair, facing the window into the yard. He was likely going through one of his reflective phases, as he pondered their current troubling case. She took a deep breath and then, with a purposefulness she didn't feel, motioned for Abed to follow her in.

The Detective swiveled his chair around and raised his eyebrows as he regarded Abed. He then glanced over at Shirley and cracked a wry smile.

"Well, who is this?"

She made the introductions, making sure to use Detective Butcher's full title, and Abed confidently shook hands with the Detective.

She explained, "Abed's here to help with the case. We go way back, and he has a mind you wouldn't believe." She beamed nervously and felt no truer words had ever been spoken.

The Detective let out a hearty laugh, the one Shirley knew he reserved for when he was indulging her. She shot him a glare and stepped forward, noticing with satisfaction that he inched his wheelchair back before turning once more toward Abed.

"Abed Nadir, the great filmmaker. Bennett has told me a lot about you."

Abed glanced back and forth between them, hesitated, and then remarked, "That's interesting. The fact that you weren't expecting me yet seem to know about me indicates Shirley has been confiding in you, sharing her days at Greendale. Yet she works as a nighttime chef, a time when supposedly you are winding down or sleeping. And when she should be making food…"

Shirley smacked Abed on the arm and then said cheerily, "Now, A-bed, we don't need to get into that right now. Dev..Detective Butcher knows a little bit about my life at Greendale, given how important you all were…are to me. But perhaps we could discuss this latest case."

Appearing to go back into his role, Abed cleared his throat and said, "Right. There was a body." He then indicated a chair and through nonverbals they negotiated him taking a seat near the Detective, Shirley joining them. Abed then made the odd request of some bakery items they might enjoy, and Shirley rose and scuttled back to the kitchen.

As happy as she was to see that boy, she was on edge at the thought of leaving him alone with her former employer. She couldn't imagine what they would talk about.

Suddenly she snapped out of her nervousness and remembered she was Shirley Bennett and not just the baker. She of course tiptoed back toward the den, fished a handy glass out of her large bag, and leaned it against the door.

Abed's voice was all business.

"There's a body on campus?"

"Yes, a man, late forties. Returning adult student. Bit of a hippie."

"Facial hair?"

There was a pause, and then Shirley heard the Detective grunt, which was a sign his underlying rage was emerging. She steadied herself and placed her ear back against the glass.

Detective Butcher barked, "Exactly what is your role in this investigation?"

"I'm here to help you and Shirley piece together this puzzle."

"I gather that. But what are your qualifications?"

"I'm a filmmaker. I study things. I study people. And I see patterns. So please tell me about the deceased. Did he have unusual hair or other odd grooming?"

There was a very long and uncomfortable pause.

"I don't know if I need a _filmmaker_ mucking up our investigation. As much as I respect Bennett, which is the only reason I've indulged you thus far, I'm going to have to cut this little conversation short."

Shirley sighed and pushed the doors open. The boys looked up at her in surprise, and she merely shook her head and tossed the glass back into her bag before pulling up a chair and joining them.

She smiled sweetly, her eyes dancing between them with a hint of menace as she asked, "Now what's this, Detective Butcher, about speaking to my friend like that? I know he's perhaps a little odd, but give him a chance. He's right that he makes connections between things that others don't. I've told you about some of our Greendale cases."

"But he's not a detective."

"Neither am I."

Detective Butcher closed his eyes and nodded. She knew she had him, and he wouldn't put up any more of a fuss. She was about to redirect the conversation back to the case when Detective Butcher let out a loud moan and opened his eyes.

"Bennett, is this another Gary situation? Because if so…."

Abed hunched forward, his eyebrows arching to almost comedic heights as his head swiveled toward Shirley. He interjected, "Shirley, did your friend Gary come for a visit?"

She certainly didn't know what to make of this. Why were people always disparaging Gary, just because he was pasty white and resembled Conan O'Brien? Well, she certainly wasn't a racist.

Before she could reply to Abed's disrespectful tone, Detective Butcher said, "Oh, yes he did. You wouldn't believe the strange things he ate for breakfast." His face contorted into a scowl as he conjured up the memory.

Abed cocked his head as he asked, "He ate breakfast here? Wait, Shirley, are you living here? I thought you had your own apartment."

Shirley felt her pulse quickening. Although it was completely innocent, she supposed many might misconstrue her and the Detective's arrangement. She cast a glance over at the Detective, who was rolling his eyes, and she replied, "Now Abed, why, yes, I am living here, it is only temporary, because I had already broken my lease to move back to Colorado after my father passed." She found herself making the sign of the cross, which didn't even make any sense to her since she wasn't Catholic, but it was a nervous habit she had developed over the years. She then added, "I have my own quarters." Dropping her voice several registers for emphasis, she added, "I'm a good Christian woman."

Abed said immediately, "Okay." He then turned back to address Detective Butcher. "So Gary's pretty obnoxious isn't he? I hate Gary."

"Abed!"

The Detective let out a hearty laugh, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as he said, "Did you know he ate herring? At five am. The man is one of the most obnoxious people I've ever met."

"Dev…Detective Bucher!"

She had had enough of this nonsense. She shouted some words to snap them back in line and gave her best mom glare. Luckily, they both settled down and decided to resume discussing the case. Unnervingly, she began to recognize that they had bonded over their shared dislike of poor Gary and Detective Butcher appeared to let down some of his defenses as he filled Abed in on his view of the case.

"So you see, the motive is baffling. Guy was a part time returning adult student, seemed to be well liked but not necessarily overly popular. Divorced, but that was amicable and was years ago. Son is in high school and is a straight-A student who is a bit of nerd. Got along reasonably well with his dad, though. Guy didn't seem to have any enemies."

Abed jotted down these details in his notebook, and said, "Your account fits with Shirley's. Now I really need to know about his sideburns."

Detective Butcher and Shirley exchanged quizzical looks, and then Shirley began to feel something burning in her brain. She widened her eyes and asked, "You mean did he have any unusual shapes razored in?"

"You understand."

She thought back to their viewing of the body, and it dawned on her where Abed was taking this, but she didn't really completely understand. But through all her time at Greendale, she had learned to never underestimate the boy's mind. She cleared her throat and replied, "I don't think he had any sideburns at all."

"Think or know?"

She frowned, knowing she hadn't been with the body very long, as that wasn't one of her most favorite aspects of working a case. She had briefly glanced at it before moving on to interviewing witnesses, readily allowing Detective Butcher to be the one who dealt with the morgue. She turned toward the Detective and remarked, "I wasn't with the body itself very long, but you followed up with that and got a better look at him. Did he have sideburns?"

Detective Butcher, slightly stiffening his shoulders for some reason, appeared to consider the question for a moment before he adamantly shook his head.

Abed nodded and jotted something else down as he said, "Freshly shaved."

"Yup."

"Interesting. I'd like to see a photo taken of the deceased before his death."

Squinting at Abed with a mixture of mild annoyance and bafflement, Detective Butcher asked, "Now what are you on about?"

"In all good time, Harry."


	3. Chapter 3

Although they offered to have Abed stay with them, he refused and insisted on finding a local lodge. Not having a lodge in the swamps of Atlanta, they arranged for him to check in to a motel nearby. Once understanding his limited options, he seemed satisfied with this. Shirley didn't know how he was paying for anything, but he reassured her that he had plenty of funds.

She wondered what that boy was up to. And since when did Abed have money to fly out here and presumably stay for an indefinite period?

And what on earth was he doing with that darn recorder?

"The accommodations are adequate, if not charming," He narrated into his device. He then proceeded to tour the modest accommodations, stepping over to the wood-paneled walls and then smiling slightly as he let his hand touch it.

Shirley clutched her bag and shook her head. She exclaimed, "You don't even drive. How on earth are you going to get around town?"

He whipped around and replied, "While you were yelling at the manager, I made an inquiry into a taxi service. They're sending someone over."

"I wasn't yelling, I was merely making sure that man understood you needed clean towels."

She didn't know how that boy survived. He was certainly going to shower, wasn't he? She began to make her way over to the bathroom to inspect it further before Abed lightly touched her arm.

"You don't need to worry about me, although I appreciate it."

"Abed, what is going on in your life? You can't just drop everything and come to help me. You have other things you need to do."

She watched him blink several times, and she felt a pang of motherly concern. Everyone knew Abed hadn't been able to make it in LA, and she strongly suspected he hadn't been able to secure meaningful employment since. But it was one of those things she felt she needed to tread lightly about now that he was here.

She missed her Greendale family so much, and she didn't want to drive him away.

But was this really the best place for him?

Startling her out of her worries, he was now gently pushing her toward the door. He said, "Shirley, I can meet you and Detective Butcher at the crime scene tomorrow morning."

She frowned and clutched her bag, pausing a moment to take in his expression. Something was going on.

"Let's have dinner."

There was an almost imperceptibly flash of something in his eyes, something she almost registered as annoyance. But surely he wouldn't turn down a good meal?

She added with a sweet tone, "My treat."

He hesitated and then cocked his head, glancing past her as she stood in his now open doorway.

"No need. I'm sure you need to get back to the swamp."

"It's no trouble, A-bed. I can show you a lovely place on Evening Street." At his now evident agitation, she let out a loud sigh and said, "Fine. We can go back to the diner. Will that make you happy?"

"I don't want to go back to the Double R right now."

Having no more of his nonsense, she exclaimed, "That's not the name of the place! It's called the Twisted Spoke!"

He merely shrugged in response and then she scrunched up her face in frustration as he now almost forcibly pushed her out of the door. It was when she was about to smack him with her bag that his expression changed, and she realized he was now looking over her shoulder, his gaze transfixed.

It was an expression of awe.

She slowly turned, smelling a flowery perfume that certainly was nice. Her heels clicking along at a leisurely and somewhat sauntering pace, was a pretty young girl of perhaps twenty, raven colored hair, startling blue eyes, and a porcelain complexion. She was dressed in an odd manner, with a skirt that reached perhaps slightly lower than a usual short hem on young girls these days, but definitely not matronly low. Her sweater was fitted, portraying a modestly curvy bosom, and Shirley was so stricken by her beauty that she almost didn't question why on earth the girl was wearing a sweater during the sweltering heat of Atlanta.

Something strange was going on.

The girl neared, and offered a bemused smile, seeming to think twice about something before deciding to change course and then said, "Mr. Nadir?"

Abed nodded, his dark eyes glimmering with intrigue, and Shirley about smacked him again.

Well she did, actually, and he winced which she supposed was something of a normal reaction in this again very strange circumstance.

And that boy was not normal.

But she realized he seemed just about smitten at the present, his hand slightly shaking as he offered it to shake.

He smiled slightly and said, the hint of waver in his voice, "Yes, and you are?"

The girl actually batted her lashes twice before replying with the hint of a purr, "Name's Audrey. Audrey Hormel."

"Nice."

Shirley just about had enough, which was saying something. She turned to Abed and poked him in the chest, noticing a hint of glee on his face, as she barked, "You hired an impersonator? I thought we went over this!"

Abed's eyes widened, and he shook his head emphatically as he said, "I swear, Shirley, I didn't." He then peeked past her and almost squeaked, "But she's here!"

Shirley closed her eyes and willed herself to pull it together. She could hear Abed's whispered, "This is a magical place."

Opening her eyes, she spun around and stared at the girl, noticing she didn't seem that weirded out by Abed in the least. She huffed, "Now, whatever your name really is, I'm going to request you go home this instant. This boy can't pay you, why he just lost his job…"

She trailed off as she instantly regretted her words, as out of the corner of her eye she caught Abed's hunched shoulders. She didn't want him to feel ashamed, but she had to stop this. He couldn't afford it.

The girl seemed to snap into mode and offered quickly, "You must be Mrs. Bennett. Pleased to meet you. I'm from the taxi service, here to pick up Mr. Nadir."

Shirley smelled something funny, and it certainly wasn't the girl's perfume. She wondered how she knew her name, as she doubted Abed had given her that information. Casting a look over at Abed and noticing he was cocking his head once again, seemingly intrigued, she replied, "Why yes, I am. My name's Shirley." She offered her hand, and the girl took it, giving her a firm and businessy shake.

She added with an arched brow, "You drive a taxi?"

The girl giggled, and it was slightly annoying. She then replied, "Well, yes, technically, but it's only part-time. I'm a student at the local community college, and this helps me pay my rent."

"I bet it does."

"I'll take good are of him."

Shirley inwardly startled, aware she was missing something, but as she was about to speak, Abed once again pushed her out. With a heavy sigh, she gave him one last hug, smiled politely at Audrey, and then made her way back to her car.

She mumbled under her breath, "I'm sure you will."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

She didn't hear from Abed until the next day, but surprisingly her phone rang at five in the morning. Luckily, being a baker, she was up, her arms covered in flour as she set to work on the morning beignets. It was something of a habit she had developed ever since she had moved to Atlanta.

She brushed off her hands on her apron and removed her large baker's hat (also procured once she took the position), and picked up her phone.

"Yes, Abed? Is everything okay?" She was somewhat worried, hoping the poor boy hadn't gotten himself into trouble. Such as being arrested on prostitution charges. She made an um-hmm sound at the thought. Atlanta wouldn't understand the boy's mind.

"Good morning, Shirley! My it's a fine day. A fine day indeed. Would you care to join me for a cup of coffee and some pie at the diner?"

His voice had an affected cheeriness, much how Jeff described his tone the night they had his special birthday dinner several years ago. She was fairly certain he was wearing a suit and probably had his hair slicked back.

She mumbled her agreement, and set to work on finishing up the beignets for Detective Butcher to enjoy.

X

X

She sat across from him in the booth and watched him slowly sip his coffee, taking great pleasure in going through his ritual, which she realized involved heavily complimenting the waitress. Sure to her prediction, he certainly looked the part and was smiling as he gazed around the diner.

"My, this is fantastic. Isn't it fantastic, Shirley?"

"Um hmm."

She furrowed her brow and continued watching him, and when he didn't get down to it, she loudly cleared her throat and asked, "What did you end up doing last night with that girl?"

He raised his eyebrows and then appeared bemused by her question, stalling she assumed as he drank some more black coffee. Well, she could wait all day if she had to. She was a mother after all.

He sighed and replied, "Now, Shirley, nothing improper happened. Audrey merely showed me around. In fact, since she's a student at the community college, she was able to get me access to the campus grounds after hours. I toured the crime scene."

"You don't say."

"She didn't really know the victim well, Randy wasn't it? But people didn't really call him that. He was known as Bumbles because he was always bumbling about. From what she could recall, he seemed little sketchy, as in perhaps up to some shady dealings." He paused and then added, "This is turning into quite the mystery. Might take me some time."

She watched him as he began to eat his pie, and she inwardly sighed. She was more than worried about him at this point. She wondered if they'd all be turning into claymation soon.

She reached for her phone and considered her next step.

X

X

"So, you'll help?"

Jeff's groan reverberated into the phone, and she considered she might need to nudge him some more. She had told him the whole story thus far, focusing on Abed's alarming behavior, and she had hoped that would have been enough. Abed always did seem to look up to Jeff.

She added with a lilt in her voice, "Now, you know that boy loves you like a brother."

"Crap, Shirley. I can't just head down to Atlanta, and anyway, I'm sure he'll work it out of his system in no time. He'll run out of money and go home."

"I don't think he can afford what he's doing now. You know how he's gotten into trouble before. I am not dressing up like a celebrity again to pay off his debts, I will not!"

"Look, Atlanta's kind of out of my way and I…."

-"Now listen, Jeffrey, do we have to have a chat about what you're doing in DC?"

That seemed to put him in his place, for there was an uncharacteristically long pause on the other end.

"I'm visiting Annie."

"I know. Now that's very interesting, especially given what we talked about before I left Greendale." She let her tone speak for itself, but then caved and added an um hmmm.

"Come on Shirley, it's purely platonic. We're just sightseeing. I'm sleeping on her couch."

She paced back and forth in the diner parking lot, not knowing what to make of that mess of a man. He was either lying to her or he was a complete fool.

Her bet was on fool.

"Jeffrey. Do I have to over there and smack you?"

"Huh? I told you we aren't fooling around, in fact there hasn't even been a hint of…"

-"You love that poor girl. Tell her."

There was another gap of silence, and she could have sworn she heard some shuffling sounds, perhaps indicative of him pacing. Well, she could relate and she certainly wasn't having a good time with this conversation. She would rather just skip ahead to their wedding invitation and be done with it, as she didn't want to even entertain the idea of their likely stumbling and probably eventually obscene courtship. Jeffrey was almost an alley cat, and she suspected Annie wasn't as innocent as she presented. She had seen her stick her tongue down Vaughn's throat, and then there was that other young man that one time near the laundry mat.

She shook her head to rid herself of the disgusting image.

"I already told her."

Well, this certainly was news. She felt her heart flutter and asked, "You mean she turned you down? Oh, pumpkin, I'm so sorry."

"No, she didn't exactly. It wasn't like that. She was moving to DC, and I told her the heart wants what it wants, even if it was code for….you know what, never mind. But let's just say I pretty much told her, and she left, which is what I wanted her to do. She needs to live her life. So we're just friends. We'll always be just friends. But that's fine, and this means I can visit and we don't have any more weirdness. We're good."

"Jeffrey, I don't buy any of that nonsense for a second."

"Hey, now…"

-"You didn't use the word 'love' now did you?"

"Well no, but she understood."

"Um hmmm."

"Can we please drop this?"

"Only if you come down here and help me. I need you."

"Crap. Fine."

X

X

"Whatever happened to that interesting girl you were seeing back at Greendale? I think her name was Rachel?"

Shirley looked up from where she had been focusing her gaze on the community college library steps. She and Abed had gone to the crime scene in broad daylight, as Abed wanted to continue to get a feel for it.

From his crouched position, Abed replied, "Oh, we drifted apart after I became obsessed with Twin Peaks."

"I see."

"Mr. Nadir, did you want me to take notes?"

Audrey had been hovering, her hips swiveling now and then as she licked her finger and flipped a page in her notebook. Shirley was almost having enough of this, but strangely, Abed hadn't seemed to be paying that much attention to her. He was squinting at the concrete and rubbing his hand over a particular spot.

Almost absentmindedly, Abed replied, "No need, Audrey. I have this." He fished out his digital recorder from his inner suit jacket pocket and clicked it. Speaking into it, he said, "I'm on the library steps, Diane, and they're noticeably bumpy. It appears no one has maintained them for some time. Someone could take a dangerous fall."

As Audrey sulked in the background, Shirley ventured, "You think he fell?"

"It's possible."

"So no murder?"

Abed let out a wearied sigh that was beyond his years. He then stood and turned to her with a gleam in his eye. "I didn't say that. There are numerous ways a fall could factor into this case. Perhaps he got into an argument, and he lost his footing, and the killer took advantage and pushed him into the steps." He made a shoving motion and then air wiped toward her as he continued, "Or perhaps someone wanted everyone to think he fell, that it was an accident, so they arranged to murder him on these steps."

"Wasn't there a knife, Mr. Nadir? And blood? I heard there was lots of blood."

Abed and Shirley turned toward Audrey and instantly felt foolish. Of course there had been copious amounts of blood. And a knife in the guy's skull.

"Ah, right. That."

Audrey licked her lips and then sat down demurely on the steps, taking a few moments to smooth her skirt. She mused, "This is so exciting. We've never had anything like this happen in Atlanta."

Shirley snapped, "Now, that's just not true! Atlanta's not a small town, people get murdered all the time!"

Audrey shrugged and then giggled.

Good lord that girl was annoying.

Abed was smirking slightly at Audrey, and he said into his recorder, "Diane, it is imperative I mention the blood and the knife. The victim was stabbed." He suddenly clicked the button and furrowed his brow, spinning around to regard the steps once again as he asked, "Wait, how did they clean up all the blood?"

Audrey laughed, "Our custodial team is very efficient."

"Are they?"

"You should talk to Bob."

"Killer Bob?"

"No, Bob the custodian, silly!"

Shirley huffed and turned away from Audrey, scanning the horizon for Detective Butcher. He was supposed to be meeting them after he returned from police headquarters where he was discussing the case with the assigned police detective. He still had contacts on the force, and he was doing his best to make sure they were informed of any leads.

"Bennett! There you are."

She swiveled to see Detective Butcher wheeling toward them from inside the library. A door was open, likely an automatic one for disabled access. She smiled broadly at him, relieved that he was here to break any weird tension.

She felt her cheeks become hot as she said, "Why, Detective Butcher, I wasn't expecting you to come from in there. When did you get here?"

He pushed his chair toward them, stopping suddenly as he came to the top steps. With a smirk he said, "I can't go down any further. Steps."

She nodded and motioned for Abed and Audrey to follow her, and they all ascended to join him.

He explained, "I got here early to have a chat with the custodian. Hope you all don't mind, but I just wanted to get a jump on things." He smiled and then turned to regard Audrey. "I'm Detective Butcher. And you are?"

"Audrey. Audrey Hormel. I'm Mr. Nadir's assistant."

Abed loudly cleared his throat and then said, "Now Audrey, you know that's not true. You're my driver. As I explained, I can't have a high school student…"

-"College student."

"College student following me around. Now if you want to drive me, that is fine, and I appreciate your help, but I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Because I'm important to you?"

"Because you're a good kid."

At Audrey's crestfallen face, Shirley said to Detective Butcher, "I'm glad you could talk to the custodian. He was next on our list."

"Well, there's no need. I took notes and I'll fill you in later." He patted his side pocket, and Abed frowned.

"How did you get up the steps?" Abed had cocked his head and was regarding Detective Butcher with steely eyes.

Shirley had just about had enough again and was about to smack him when Detective Butcher waived her off and replied, "There's a ramp at the side entrance."

"How did you get here?"

"I have my van configured for driving and I keep my chair in the back."

"Ahh, that makes perfect sense." Abed smiled tightly, which unnerved Shirley to no end. That boy never smiled.

As they were all about to go back into the library, Abed remarked in a too casual tone, "I'm so glad there's a ramp. Why, otherwise there's no way you could access the scene of the crime."

Shirley stiffened and shot Detective Butcher a look out of the side of her eye, and he shook his head dismissively and allowed Abed to go on.

"I was almost thinking it was like one of those movies where it turns out the supposed hero was faking his paralysis all along. But that would be ridiculous."

"Yes, ridiculous." Detective Butcher rolled his eyes and smiled indulgently at Shirley and she gave him a light pat on his shoulder.

They entered the library and made their way to a back study room with a large square wood table and several chairs. Shirley glanced at Abed and noticed his eyes were sparkling.

Once again she could have sworn she heard him squeak.

They sat down, Shirley opting to take the seat opposite Abed, and Audrey going to Abed's right. Detective Butcher wheeled up to the spot in between Audrey and Shirley.

Abed remarked, "That's where our villain used to sit."

"Now Abed, you know Pierce was not a villain! And the poor man is dead! God rest his soul." She once again made the sign of the cross for some reason and murmured a prayer.

"We both know he's not dead. He's in the Philippines."

"He is not."

"Sure he is. He faked his death how many times? It's a common trope. If you'd only just pay attention."

They glared at one another, and Shirley was in the middle of considering what to say to that delusional boy next when there was a familiar throat clear near the doorway.

"Do I have to referee already?"

"Jeffrey!"

She jumped to her feet and shuffled over to Jeff, who was in fact standing there, a duffel bag draped lazily over his shoulder. He was smirking but she knew he was delighted to see them. She grabbed him into a bear hug, and she smiled profusely as she heard the thump of his bag as he allowed it to fall to the floor.

"Now, now, I know you can't get along without me but try not to freak out."

"Jeffrey, I missed you so much!"

She reluctantly allowed him to gently yet firmly push her out of the embrace and they took a moment to regard one another. He certainly looked more relaxed, which surprised her as he was about a year older than when they had last seen each other. His beard was more full and his hair shorter and spiky, but it was the same Jeff Winger she knew and loved.

She whispered, "Thank you."

He nodded and glanced over at Abed. "Are you going to say hello too, buddy?"

Abed was studying him and merely said, "There was no need to call Jeff. I can handle this case."

"Now, Abed."

All of a sudden there was a commotion down the hall, and Jeff winced.

"Shut up! I got it!"

"You don't! And oh my god will you let me help you? You packed way too much stuff!"

"I did not! I lived in New York! And I've traveled around the world! To Amsterdam!"

"Do you even remember Amsterdam?"

Shirley's pulse quickened, as she could believe what she was hearing. She cast Jeff a look of inquiry, and he smiled with a shrug.

"We all wanted to help."

At that moment, Shirley turned to see Annie stepping carefully inside the room, a roller bag behind her. She grinned and chirped, "Hi, Shirley! Hi Abed!"

Abed had now stood and made his way over to them, taking a moment to glance back and forth pointedly between Annie and Jeff.

He whispered, "Nice."

It was then that Britta flopped through the doorway, letting a huge half-unzipped duffel bag plop to the ground. She was also holding a plastic pet carrier under her arm, and her hair was sticking up in all directions.

With an apologetic smile, she said, "Hey Shirley. Hey Abed. I brought Daniel. He doesn't like to be left alone."

Shirley beamed at all three of them and thought this was a wonderful day.

It was so nice.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

After the gang arrived, they all began to strategize in the study room, Jeff quickly assuming the role of leader, a move which ended up being almost immediately squashed by Detective Butcher.

With a steely gaze, Detective Butcher, who had been polite through all the introductions and explanation of relationships earlier, wheeled toward Jeff, taking a few tedious moments to move back from the study table and then around the sharp corner. Abed watched him do this and wiggled his brows at Shirley.

She knew what that boy was insinuating. Just because Pierce, God rest his soul, had been in a wheelchair and made similar awkward maneuverings years ago didn't mean Detective Butcher was a villain. It was merely a coincidence, and of course Detective Butcher wasn't that savvy with his wheelchair; after all, the poor man only became paralyzed less than a year ago.

When he had tragically lost his wife.

She made the sign of the cross, which Annie, now seated to her right like old times, noticed and squinted at her in confusion. Shirley collected herself and returned her attentions to the scene unfolding in front of her.

Detective Butcher was now seated in between Jeff and Annie, in the area where no on had ever sat (well, except Duncan in year 5 but who remembered that), and Jeff had clearly moved the empty chair off to the side sometime during Shirley's ponderings. She could tell by that smug look on that man's face how he was merely humoring the Detective. But she resisted the urge to say anything, knowing that Detective Butcher was more than capable of handling the situation. He had a way with people and could put poor Jeffrey to shame.

Detective Butcher gave a nod to Jeff and then said, "Ahh, Bennett's told me all about your former study group and how it worked. I understand you were the leader, Mr. Winger. But here, see you are on my turf, and I know the case. It would be simpler if I were to fill everyone in and lead the investigation."

Jeff smiled tightly in that way he did when everyone knew he was about to do something passive aggressively rash in five to ten minutes. Shirley made sure with an um hmmm that he made eye contact with her, and she could tell that he understood he needed to behave.

Turning back to Detective Butcher, he said, "Why of course, that makes a lot of sense. I apologize if I was presumptuous, but old habits die hard. By the way, you can call me Jeff. Mr. Winger sounds way too formal." He extended his hand and waited for Detective Butcher to accept it.

"You may call me Detective Butcher."

"That's a load of crap."

"Jeffrey!"

Jeff almost pounced onto the table as he snapped, "I'm sorry Shirley, I've tried to be nice, but what the hell?! You call me and ask for my help, and I fly all the way down here, and this guy clearly doesn't want me here. He's doing a power play."

"Jeffrey, you're the one who's the control freak."

"Yeah, like that's true." Jeff rolled his eyes and glanced at Britta to his right for backup, and she merely stared at him like he was an idiot.

Slightly panicked, he turned to look at Annie.

Affecting a serious demeanor, with more than a hint of smugness, Annie pulled back her shoulders and laced her hands on the table.

Without even attempting to address the unasked question but perhaps ironically illustrating a point, she said, "Well, given that I'm interning with the FBI, I think I should be the one to lead this investigation. After all, I'm the only one who's qualified, at a _federal_ level." She then smiled triumphantly and proceeded to preen.

Jeff's eyes bulged and he bit his lip, and Shirley could have sworn that man was turned on. It was just not appropriate for this venue.

Shirley stood and pounded her fist on the table.

"Now listen! Yes, I asked for your help, and Jeffrey, Annie, Brit-ta, I am delighted to see you all and so grateful. But this is Detective Butcher's case, and it's not a federal matter, but a local one. I think he can lead, and we can all assume valuable roles. Abed, isn't that right?"

Abed, who had been studying Annie for perhaps longer than Shirley realized, merely nodded.

"So it's decided then."

X

X

After the awkwardness, they all quickly fell into approximations of their roles from the Yam Case, Shirley and Detective Butcher assuming a leadership position, Jeff and Annie the lawyerly prosecutors, and Abed as the street detective with his sidekick Audrey.

A bespectacled Britta, cat squirming in her arms, pulled out her laptop and began to awkwardly pound on the keys, with no one really questioning what she was doing.

Shirley observed the now collaborative crime-fighting group, and she reflected on how much she had missed them. It was a fine day indeed to listen to Jeff's quips and Annie's astute questions. That girl was so pretty, and she was certainly looking very FBI-ish in that smart tailored suit and shiny hair. She had a soft spot for Britta as well, noticing how much she had missed her genuine and compassionate smile, which was hidden under layers of snark. She should grab that girl and get a coffee before they all left town.

All left town.

She said aloud, "I think we have all the facts of the case laid-out, isn't that right, Detective Butcher?"

He nodded and glanced around the table. "I think so. Of course there's a lot of work to do, but it seems as if this team knows how to divide up a big project. I'm looking forward to see what you can all bring to me and Bennett."

Abed cocked his head and said, "Since Audrey and I are going to be the street detectives, we'll get started interviewing witnesses this afternoon. If we're lucky, there might be a chase scene. We'll convene with Jeff and Annie at three and get some pie at the diner and Britta of course can do some research for us. Badly."

"Hey!" Britta scowled and Jeff reached over and patted her arm in a condescending manner. She shirked and gave him a glare, to which he raised his brows almost giddily.

Shirley really had missed her lovable crew. Why, she couldn't imagine right now why she used to get so irritated. They were her family. She held back her tears of pride and happiness.

And then of course as everyone else started talking amongst themselves, she overheard Abed murmuring something to Audrey. She turned and listened.

"Would you write your name down for me?"

Audrey giggled and accepted the pad of paper Abed had shoved toward her. She picked up a pen and, after taking an inappropriate amount of time considering her task while lightly biting the end of the pen, carefully wrote her name in a flourish. She then sat back and, jutting out her chest, slowly slid the paper back, making sure to graze Abed's hand.

Appearing unfazed, Abed regarded the writing for a few moments and then made a hum of satisfaction.

"Audrey, that rightward slant in your handwriting indicates a romantic nature. A heart that yearns. Be careful."

"I do?"

He looked up and smiled slightly at her, and Shirley just about had enough. She was about to make an umhmmm when she was stopped by Jeff's loud throat clearing.

Shirley exchanged alarmed glances with Jeff, and she knew that man finally understood they had a serious problem.

x

x

Detective Butcher magnanimously invited the gang to stay with him and Shirley in the mansion, as he had plenty of room. Shirley was never sure why he and his wife had lived in such a spooky and grand home, but she didn't feel close enough to him to question it.

Not that they weren't close, but she didn't like to ask too many questions about his life with his wife. He had confided in her some things but still. They had to keep things professional.

Jeff would get his own space of course, and Annie and Britta would double up, as Shirley was using the only other spare room. Although Jeff did his best to try to convince Abed to room with him, Abed was adamant that he remain at the motel, where he said he needed the atmosphere to think through the case. Plus, he added that he would be taking lots of vocal digital notes and didn't want to bother Jeff at night. It did not escape Shirley when Abed then winked at Jeff and whispered to him something about bed sharing tropes.

So that boy was going to share a bed with Audrey? She wasn't going to have it.

She yanked on Abed's collar before he could leave the school and hauled him off down the hall to a supply closet, where she tossed him and then close the door behind her. She then reached around in the dark and was relieved to find a hanging cord from the overhead incandescent light bulb and yanked on it to reveal a murky yellow haze.

Abed stared at her with an unreadable expression, but Shirley could have sworn he was excited. She once again thought she heard a little squeak.

Stepping closer to him, she clutched her bag and said, "Now listen, you will come back to the mansion with us and room with Jeff. There is no reason for you to get more mixed up with that child. You don't even know her."

"She's twenty one."

"I don't care. Something is wrong with her. Either that, or you are paying her to assume a role, in which case that is against the law, if you ahem, do other things."

"I am paying her. She's my driver."

"You know very well what I mean."

He seemed to consider her words, and he placed his hand on his chin and then tilted his head. The sheen from the light bulb reflected on his slicked hair.

Finally, he said, "I want you to know, Shirley, that Audrey and I aren't doing anything improper. I'm aware she might have feelings for me, but I don't see her that way."

"You've been leading that poor girl on."

He shrugged and said, "And at any rate, I can't stay with you at the mansion. I've already explained it to Jeff, and I think he understands."

She furrowed her brow and took a moment to collect herself. Abed did seem adamant that he wasn't intending to fool around with that girl, and she had certainly never known him to be promiscuous. She believed him. Plus her recollection of Twin Peaks was that Agent Cooper and Audrey never did consummate their flirtation. Abed was a stickler for fidelity to screenplays.

She asked, "Then what on earth was that I overheard you saying to Jeff? Bed sharing trope?"

Abed bit his knuckle and then shook his head. "I can't say, Shirley. I don't want to ruin it."

She suddenly understood.

"Oh dear lord, you meant him and Annie!" She smacked him with her bag, and this time she hoped it did some minor damage. She then added, "I will put a stop to this."

Rubbing his arm, Abed suddenly stilled and then stared at her. "But you want this just as much as I do."

"There can be no sinning under Detective Butcher's roof." She shook her head and murmured her disapproval so that the Lord could hear her. She wanted to be on record with him that she did not condone this.

Abed kept staring at her, and at a pause in her hmmmms, he said, "Bed sharing tropes don't always lead to sex."

At this, she perked up her ears and waited for him to explain.

With a glint in his eye, he continued, "Sometimes the situation is just a way for two people to finally admit that they have feelings for each other. Of course, others are bound to misunderstand it and assume they had sex, but in those types of stories, that isn't what happens. It's more of an emotional catharsis."

"Ahhh, that's nice."

"Which is very different from the other bed sharing type of story. That's pretty much porn."

"Abed!"

"But they call it smut."

X

X

At three that afternoon, Abed, Audrey, Jeff, Annie, Britta, and Shirley convened at the diner to recap the day's investigations. Abed ordered his black coffee and cherry pie, and Jeff and Shirley once again exchanged concerned looks.

Annie nudged her way in between Abed and Audrey, and Abed seemed annoyed.

"Abed, it's so good to see you. I missed you."

"You've only been gone a few weeks."

Biting her lip in concentration, Annie then tried, "I know. But so much has happened since then. You went to LA…"

At this, Abed abruptly stood and slid Annie, in her chair, over next to Jeff and then with a tight smile pushed his seat back where it was beside Audrey.

Everyone gasped, and Annie squeaked before exchanging frantic looks with Jeff.

"Jeff, do something!"

At this, Jeff tapped the table and regarded Abed with a stern expression. "Hey, buddy, you want to explain that? It was rude."

"No, Annie was rude. I was sitting next to Audrey. Plus, it makes more sense to have you and Annie, representing the law in this, be near each other while Audrey and I share our findings from this afternoon."

Shirley shook her head, and she knew Jeff was uncharacteristically at a loss for words. She wasn't sure what any of them were supposed to do now. She needed to find some way for Abed to be alone with Jeff so that he could talk some sense into him, but how?

Appearing to perk up from his likely angry outburst, Abed exclaimed, "Audrey and I were busy this afternoon. We found out something very interesting about our victim."

With some curiosity, Shirley asked, "Something we didn't already know?"

"Yes, we talked to the Dean. Apparently, Bumbles, aka Randy but no one ever called him that, was a known drug dealer. Weed mostly."

Shirley tried to ignore Britta's sudden renewed interested as she had stopped attempting to corral her cat. That girl had problems. She needed to sit her down and have a serious chat.

Annie frowned. "Cannabis? Why does that sound familiar?"

"There are a lot of similarities to one of our old cases. Check out the files Audrey and I put together." Abed leaned forward and shoved several manila folders toward them all.

They all took a few minutes to peruse the materials, and Shirley began to feel her pulse quicken. It was insane.

Jeff was now sitting up straighter and he rapped his knuckle on the table as he shared a look of mania with Abed.

Abed nodded with assuredness, and a hush fell over the gang.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was nightfall, and Abed had returned to his motel while the rest of them headed to the mansion. Jeff hadn't said much on the drive back, and he appeared lost in thought. Shirley spied him in the rearview mirror glancing at his manila folder once or twice while a manic-y Annie attempted to engage him in hushed conversation, which he rebuffed. But she caught a smirk from him now and then and dare she say the hint of a blush.

Britta was turning around frequently and giving them both the stink eye.

Shirley smiled in smug satisfaction and exchanged a knowing look with Britta as she turned into the driveway. Detective Butcher's van was parked near the side entrance, and she knew that he had likely already gone inside.

He was a strong man. The way that he maneuvered his way in and out of that chair was impressive.

His biceps were huge.

She loudly cleared her throat and silently prayed to Jesus as she killed the ignition. She turned to her side and was surprised to see Britta smiling in that coy way she would when she thought she was smart. It was unbelievably annoying.

"What on earth are you looking at me like that for?"

Britta shrugged and said, "Nothing. You were just taking a long time staring at Detective Butcher's van. It's like you were in a trance."

"That's nonsense! I just parked."

Jeff rapped on the window from the outside and shouted, "Shirley! I said could you pop the trunk?"

She startled, not knowing when that man had left the car and was confused that Annie didn't appear to be in the back any longer as well. She frowned and leaned forward to pull the lever, hearing the trunk open.

"Thank you!"

She muttered to herself and hushed Britta as they both exited and began unloading the bags.

X

She spotted Jeff sitting on the edge of his bed, his brow furrowed as he continued to flip through the contents of the manila folder. She knocked on the door to alert him to her presence, and at a slight smile, she took that as an invitation and stepped inside and sat down next to him.

Normally she wouldn't think it proper to be on a bed with a man to whom she wasn't married, but this was Jeff. He was her friend.

And that man had troubles.

She said, "I hope you don't fall for Abed's nonsense. He's making connections again that aren't relevant."

"Aren't they, Shirley? I mean you gotta admit, the victim has a lot in common with Starburns."

"So what if he does? That's merely a coincidence. It still doesn't tell us who killed him."

"It might point to motive. Perhaps a drug deal gone bad."

"I guess." She frowned as she leaned over to see the photo of the blood splattered across the victim's face and then tactfully closed the folder and placed it to the side.

"That's not nice."

"Shirley. We're investigating a homicide. Things are not nice."

They exchanged a few silent and intense looks, and she marveled once again at them being together, working on a crime investigation.

She whispered, "Just like the good old days." 

He returned her smile and pulled her into a side hug, his long arm almost enveloping her.

"I can't tell you how much it means to me that you called."

"I knew you could help. With Abed, too."

"I'll talk to him."

"Thank you."

They pulled apart and he said, "I'm sorry I was kind of an ass to you on the phone when Annie called you. I guess I can see you have something going on here in Atlanta. I might not understand it, but that's okay. I trust that you have a plan."

"Plan?"

He explained, "To bring your kids here."

Confused and a bit startled, she shook her head. "I'm going back to Greendale just as soon as we finish this case."

At this, Jeff squinted and seemed almost at loss for words, which was so unlike that man. He eventually managed, "I guess I assumed. You and the detective…?" He raised his eyebrows and stopped, clearly hoping she'd understand what he meant.

Well, she did understand and she didn't like the implication one damn bit.

Smacking him with her bag, she said, "Jeffrey! We are professionals! There is nothing going on! Dear Lord!"

Cringing and rubbing his arm, he said, "Sorry. I guess I misread that."

She scrunched up her face, annoyed that he now seemed to be almost laughing at her. She needed to put him in his place.

"Now listen, I don't say anything about you and An-nie now do I?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you kind of already did."

She waived her hand in the air dismissively and turned away as she said, "Abed thinks you two are going to share a bed tonight, like in the tropes." She looked at him suspiciously out of the corner of her eye, awaiting his reaction.

She heard the giggle, and she turned back and smacked him once again.

"Oh come on! I've been sleeping on her couch for a week! If we were going to _share a bed_ , trust me we'd have had plenty of opportunity before now and without all you judgmental people watching, listening at doors for any little creak in the floorboards."

"Now Jeffrey, I…"

"And if you smack me one more time with that thing I'm concerned the listening glass you have inside will break."

He was terrible. She resisted the urge, and demurely placed the bag in between them.

X

After her chat with Jeff, which didn't really appear to elicit any more useful information other than he seemed determined to suppress his feelings for Annie in some misguided notion that he was sparing her from something, Shirley decided to put an end to the nonsense and rapped on the girls' door.

"You don't have to knock, Jeff. I told you, after the shower incident I'll be sure to inform you before I change. You're being…" The door opened, and Annie instantly stopped speaking, her mouth popping slightly at the sight of Shirley.

Shirley squinted as the redness now spreading across Annie's cheeks and she muttered an um hmmm.

Finally appearing to collect herself, Annie jutted out her chin and plastered on her best Annie smile and said, "Shirley! Oh, please, come in!"

She stepped back to allow Shirley to enter, and it would be almost amusing. To some other person perhaps.

Shirley stepped inside and turned to close the door behind her, which she suspected elicited the squeak from Annie.

What was it with all her friends squeaking these days?

She motioned for Annie to sit down next to her on the queen bed and after she accepted, said, "Now An-nie, what's this I hear about a shower?"

Annie stared at her and there was a flash of something across the girl's eyes before she said with affected nonchalance, "Oh, that. I was just kidding. It's called Winger sarcasm. As you know, he's been staying with me, and sometimes we just have little jokes."

"Um hmmm."

With a sudden chest collapse, Annie let out a groan. "Okay, fine. He may have walked in on me while I was taking a shower the other day," Annie exaggerated an eye roll as she continued, "but it was an accident, and well, things like that happen sometimes. When we were living together, Abed walked in on me once while I was taking a shower too and it didn't lead to any weirdness. Or at least any more weirdness than usual."

"Taking a shower or stepping out of the shower?"

A slightly panicked look came over her as she replied, "Um, stepping out of the shower."

"Towel?"

"With Abed, yes."

"Jeffrey?"

"No."

"I see."

The silence was deafening, and Shirley let her brain swirl with all sorts of thoughts. While she wanted to see the two of them put an end to the foolishness, she didn't want it to happen like this. Jeff seeing Annie naked at this stage, before marriage, was not right. Even if it were an accident.

She shook herself and said, her eyes casting toward Annie with tentativeness, "That must have been awkward."

"It was. And before you say anything, I want you to know that nothing happened. We both kinda freaked out and he went jogging for like two hours."

Shirley closed her eyes for a moment and then pursed her lips. "An-nie, I can um, understand how this sort of thing might happen." She actively stopped her mind from flitting to that one time when Detective Butcher's occupational therapist hadn't shown up to help him learn how to properly emerge from the bathtub and continued, "I know that's not your fault, and that you're a good girl," she gripped Annie's hand perhaps a little too tightly and tried to suppress her images of Vaughn and the laundromat guy as she added, "but this situation with you and Jeffrey, now, it just seems ripe for these sort of things."

She turned to face Annie fully, and noticed the sadness in her eyes.

"Oh, honey, are you okay?"

With a lip quiver, Annie replied, "Yeah. I guess I didn't think it through when we talked about having him visit. We thought it would be fun. I honestly thought I could do it, even with the uncertainty of how we left things in June."

At this, Shirley needed to know Annie's perception of the situation. She had already heard Jeff's take, which seemed ridiculous.

She asked with seeming innocence, "June?"

Annie let out a long sigh and explained, "He kissed me goodbye. It was really sweet actually, just a quick kiss on the lips, and he looked so sad. He told me he had to let me go, and I tried to tell him that I thought despite the age difference that we might be at similar places in life." Her eyes growing wider, she continued, "But I think I made a mistake in mentioning my age in a sort of joke, and oh god, I think he thought I rejected him."

Shirley regarded Annie's pained expression and she couldn't take it.

"Oh, dear Lord are you two dumbasses."

"I know you don't approve, Shirley, but I love him." Annie's lips were full on shaking now, and the tears were forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Dear Jesus."

She took a moment to collect herself and then said with as much of her mom authority as she could muster, "You two need to have a serious conversation. And I know we've had our differences, but I need you to know that I wouldn't be upset if you and Jeffrey decided to date. I can see how much you two mean to each other."

Annie appeared shocked at this information, and she suddenly felt bad. She wondered how much the girl had held things back from her throughout the years out of fear of her judgment. Why, she wasn't a judgmental person. She merely wanted to protect her loved ones.

And make sure they got into heaven. Otherwise she'd miss them and be so deeply sad.

But Annie and Jeff, she was realizing, could in theory be an acceptable couple. She'd have to advise them of course so that they didn't sin, but she was suddenly hopeful.

She smiled with reassurance and said, "An-nie, I love you and Jeffrey and I want you both to be happy."

Annie relaxed her shoulders and said, "Thanks, Shirley. I appreciate your support so much. You have no idea. I've been afraid to really tell you how I felt about him."

"Oh, honey." She patted her hand, since she had now finally unclenched it.

Annie seemed to consider something for a few moments, and the sadness returned in her voice. She explained, "But I don't think he feels that way about me. At least not anymore. He's been distancing himself, especially after the shower incident. And when you called, he jumped at the chance to leave, and while I think he does want to help Abed I think he wanted to get away from me." She gulped and continued, "And I'm not proud to admit this, but that's why I insisted I come along to help. I told my director I had a family emergency and needed to take a few days. Which I know might not have been the smartest thing to do, but you guys are my family so it's not a lie, I want to help Abed too, and I guess I just couldn't let Jeff go."

Shirley regarded the tears now freely flowing down Annie's cheeks, and she maternally wiped them with a tissue she had in her bag and murmured, "Now, this will not do. I will have you know that I may have information."

"Information?"

"Yes. Let's just say that I think if you talk to Jeffrey about all of this, in a serious way, it will be a productive conversation."

"Did he tell you something?" Annie sniffed loudly into the tissue.

"I have been speaking with him, about you, for quite some time. The man is a bit consumed with his own self-loathing to think he's good enough for you, but trust me, his feelings about you haven't changed. If anything, I think he's realized how deep they actually are. So if you're willing to put up with his mess, march on over there and talk to him."

Annie was now practically beaming, and Shirley felt perhaps more than a little proud, which she tried to dampen, as she knew pride was a sin. But to know she brought such happiness to that girl really did make her day.

X

"Hey Shirley, can you hold Daniel while I get his medicine?"

She knew she shouldn't have woken in the middle of the night to check on the dough. She had somehow been unable to sleep at the thought of it not being on the counter, as she couldn't remember if she had taken it out of the fridge before bed.

She sighed and apprehensively accepted the squirming cat from Britta, noting with surprise that he appeared to calm down quickly in her arms. She began to pet him lovingly, regarding his little tiger stripes and then heard the purr.

"He's lovely."

Britta squinted at Daniel for a moment and then said as she turned toward her bag on the kitchen table and said, "That's weird. He's usually not so friendly."

"Really? Maybe I have a special touch."

"Well, now that I think about it, he likes Jeff too."

"Ahh."

"And Abed. And Troy. Oh, and I asked Annie to keep an eye on him once too, and she said he slept near her head and was all sweet meowy in the morning."

"I see."

Britta turned back, holding a dropper full of liquid and said, "Open up."

"Now, this is ridiculous. Put it in his food."

"He's too smart for that."

X

After a scramble with Daniel, Shirley inspected her arms to make sure there were no deep scratches and then joined Britta in the living room, as they both expressed they were too awake to sleep. They were both also likely a little creeped out, and Shirley was reassured at last to potentially have someone she could talk to about the spooky old mansion. Why, even tonight it seemed extra eerie, as there were some creaking sounds coming from the ceiling, which she noticed Britta was staring at here and there. The girl sensed the spirits too.

Daniel sat watching them from his spot on a stepstool across the room. Britta kept trying to coax him over while holding a small beret, but he didn't budge.

She glanced upwards toward the sounds and then tried to shift her focus. She lightly touched Britta's arm to regain her attention and then said, "Honey, it is so good to see you. But how did you know to come?"

Britta gave her a soft smile and replied, "Jeff called me. He told me about Abed and well," she shrugged, "I knew I could help. Since I therapized Abed I have some insight into his psyche."

"Well, I…"

"You could have asked me, but I suppose you thought you'd bother me."

"Yes, that is exactly it. I know how busy you are, and I suppose I thought analysis might take more time than we had. Jeffrey seemed the most logical person to talk some sense into Abed. I'm sorry."

"Eh, don't be. Jeff explained to me that he needed me, and I wasn't _that_ busy, so I figured I'd come too. We were able to arrange flights so that I could meet them at the Atlanta airport within a couple hours of each other."

Shirley did her best to keep her reaction in check. Of course Jeff called Britta in some attempt to avoid being alone with Annie. It was the only explanation that made any sense. He probably thought he'd needed to get a hotel room as well, and he wouldn't want to be sharing a room with Annie.

She was brought back from her thoughts by Britta's voice.

"Shirley, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon."

"What's the deal with you and Detective Butcher?"

Shirley stiffened and clasped her hands over her bag, which she had brought downstairs just in case she needed her reading glasses once she got to the kitchen.

"I don't know what you mean."

Britta rolled her eyes and said, "Come on. It's obvious you two are into each other."

She shook her head adamantly and said, "What does everyone think that? We work together. And yes, we're friends, but that's it. I'm married."

"Legally separated. And we both know you and Andre are talking to your lawyers about divorce."

She took a few steadying breaths, knowing that Britta was right for a change. The separation was merely where they were now while she attended to her father's situation, but their marriage was long over. Again. It made her sad, the thought that she had failed at it once more.

Seeming to sense her thoughts, Britta said, "It's not your fault Shirley. You tried. And you wanted to run a business too which is a perfectly reasonable expectation. If you ask me, as hot as Andre is, he's a pretty crappy husband. First of all leaving you for a stripper and secondly for being a misogynistic pig."

Shirley sniffed and pulled out a tissue to dab her eyes. She said, "He was pretty lousy."

"You bet he was."

"He only gave me two bland orgasms."

Britta nodded sagely and rubbed her back. "That's really one thing I will never understand. How could you have _bland_ orgasms? I'm thinking you've never had one."

Shirley shifted her gaze and asked, "Well, now of course I did. Those two times were exciting. It felt nice."

Britta winced and said, "Shirley! Orgasms aren't described as _nice_. They're toe-curling, vibrant, pulsating, etcetera etcetera. They make noise. God, I wish at least one of your boyfriends had given you one."

"Well, um, there's only been Andre. And Chang, but I don't remember that."

Britta stared at her dumbfounded and she instantly smacked her arm. At this, Daniel scurried over and plopped himself over her bag, seemingly with a nonverbal instruction for her to resume petting him, which she did.

"Shirley! You've only had sex with one man?!"

"I waited until I was married, and I've only been married to one man, so yes."

Britta appeared to take this information in, and she stared at the floor for a few moments before she turned back to her and asked, "What about solo?"

"Hm?"

"Have you been able to give yourself one?"

Shirley gasped and felt Britta's reassuring hand squeeze, which stopped her from leaving the room immediately.

"Shirley, come on. We've known each other for years. You expected me to ask that."

"Of course I haven't! Why…"

"Please, consider it. There are articles you can read if you're squeamish. Or you know, you could just get a toy, one of those vibrating ones, and it won't freak you out. Look, I'll even go with you. I'm sure we can find a shop in Atlanta. There's a small purple one that…"

She smacked that girl hard.

X

After she had disentangled herself from Britta's lack of shame, she retired upstairs, ghosts be damned, which she supposed they already were or they wouldn't be making a ruckus in the house. She normally just felt their presence, but she supposed with all the murder goings on and carnal talk that they were extra aroused tonight.

She tip-toed down the hall, as she didn't want to wake Annie, and although she thought she heard the ghosts' groans from further down the hall, she told herself perhaps it was all in her head. She was easily spooked, something that she had dealt with since she was a child.

The world was a scary place.

She made the sign of the cross for extra protection perhaps and passed by Annie and Britta's room and made a beeline for hers, content that at least if she made a sound now as she passed Detective Butcher's quarters that he likely wouldn't mind. He was usually up late anyways reading and was often a light sleeper. It's part of why he was often taking the stair lift to see her in the wee hours of the morning when she was baking.

When they'd have their long talks.

She heard a creak and sprung around with a gasp.

"Wanna come in?"

There was Detective Butcher, peering out his door and smiling at her wryly. She could tell he was almost going to laugh, likely because he had startled her so.

She huffed and said, "I was just going back to bed."

"Couldn't sleep either? Join the club."

"I was just talking with Britta downstairs. She told me she needed to give medicine to her cat, but I think she's also feeling restless."

"I know. I went down there earlier and saw she was there but not you, so I came back up. Thank goodness you're awake. I wanted to talk about the case. I had some thoughts."

Well, she supposed talking about the case would be a good use of their insomnia time. Since Britta was downstairs and insisting she wasn't going back to bed anytime soon, it also made sense that they would need to talk in Detective Butcher's quarters.

They had to.

She accepted his invitation as he pulled back the door, and she closed the door behind them.

For privacy.

They would be discussing case details.

He wheeled over to the seating area, which was near the window a few feet from the king-sized bed. She smiled politely and sat down, noting the pile of case materials he had on the table in between them.

"So your friend Abed's got an interesting take on the situation. There could be a drug link."

She nodded and said, "I was thinking about it too. That makes sense. And Jeff agrees."

There was an awkward pause, and she wondered if she should have mentioned Jeff. Detective Butcher had seemed almost territorial earlier that day when they had all initially discussed the case. She supposed he didn't like not being in charge.

Finally he said, "Ah, Jeff. He's a good-looking man. You didn't tell me that. From your tales, I always pictured him to be kind of average looking with an inferiority complex."

She felt her heart flutter but tried to ignore it. "I didn't think it mattered."

"You're close?"

"Yes."

There was another long pause, and she felt restless. She fiddled with her bag, glad it was providing some modesty and covering the opening in her robe.

Detective Butcher then managed, "You told me that he and Annie might be a thing, but he certainly didn't seem very interested in her. I was watching them today."

She tilted her head and regarded him, noticing the blush creeping across his cheeks. For some reason, she felt a sense of indignation within her.

With a stammer, she said, "It's none of your business, any of that, but Jeffrey and I are just friends. And why does it matter?"

"No reason. Sorry. Forget I said anything."

She politely murmured something so they could move on.

Really.

He cleared his throat and began flipping through a file. He then slid over a picture of the deceased and said, "If he was consorting with drug traffickers, it would explain the gruesomeness of this scene, given he had no other enemies."

She winced and inched back. She never could handle the blood. It's why she had him handle everything with the body, custodian Bob, and the morgue. It was just not nice.

He eyed her for a moment and then carefully shifted the photo back into the folder, closing it while giving her a reassuring smile.

"Just letting you know this case might take longer to crack than we thought. I doubt your friends can be here throughout it all. Annie tells me she's only on leave from her FBI internship for four days and she'll need to make up a ton of work. Britta's studying for her GRE so that she can get into a psych grad program. Jeff has to teach a class next week. I'm sure Abed must having something else going on too."

He looked at her questioningly on that last one, and she shook her head. He frowned.

"Your friend Abed, let's just say that although I appreciate his willingness to help and perhaps some of his observations on this drug aspect, needs some serious help."

"I know. Poor boy."

"Shirley." With a look of concern, he wheeled toward her. He took her hands and clasped them in his, gazing into her eyes.

"We can get him some help."

She shook her head. "He won't. You don't understand."

"We can help him. But we have to have a united front. We can do this together."

She felt a sense of calmness wash over her, the way it had that night when he reassured her after her father's passing. They had spent all night talking, her sharing her regrets about having lived so far away from him before recent times and Detective Butcher confiding that he had often questioned the moments when he had taken his wife for granted. They had bonded in their pain, and they had resolved to help each other face the uncertain future.

She whispered, "I know."

It was then that the grandfather clock from the hallway struck three, and Detective Butcher groaned.

"We should go to bed."

"Of course! The dough will have risen by five. Oh Lord, am I tired." She felt herself sway a little, feeling a little woozy as the weariness fell over her. It had been a long day, and she had been having too many intense conversations.

He nodded and then asked, "I'm beat. Would you mind helping me into bed? When I'm spent like this, I have trouble doing it myself." He gave her a nervous smile.

She readily agreed, knowing that poor man had it rough. She couldn't imagine how he had the stamina to move through his days, negotiating obstacles. Even a simple matter like getting into bed took a lot out of him. She supposed that was why he often roamed the halls in his wheelchair.

She followed him over to the bed and spent the next minute or so assisting him in transferring from his chair. He was strong, as he worked out regularly with a trainer, so the process went fairly smoothly. There was only one awkward moment when they were caught with her almost hovering completely above him, but luckily they were able to laugh about it and get him settled.

Instinctively tucking him in, she said, "Now, there you go. Get a couple hours rest if you can, and don't worry about getting up early. I'm the one who's the baker after all."

He grinned at her and brushed her hand. At her startle, he explained, "You don't need to tuck me in. And look, I'm sitting up."

"Sorry. Yes of course."

"You look tired. You can always take a snooze here you know. It's a long way down that hallway, and I know how you get scared."

She felt her pulse quicken, and she didn't like that. Maybe it was because she was fearful of ghosts and not because of what he said about sharing a bed. That would be ridiculously improper, and she knew he knew she'd think so.

She gave him the stink eye, and he shrugged.

"Had to try."

She smacked him, and ignoring his chuckle, she made her way over to the door. "Good night."

"Good night, Bennett."

She stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her. As she shuffled away, she suddenly heard a loud moan and caught her breath. The sound was followed by an almost violent creaking and squeaking noise, the likes of which she had never in all her years heard, so she sprinted back toward the safety of the Detective's quarters.

"Bennett! You're back! What happened, a ghost get you?"

"Detective Butcher, you don't even know the half of it!" She shrieked and dove into the bed, pulling the covers securely over her head.

It was perhaps two full minutes later that she gasped for air, the Detective having waited out her scene. To her dismay, he was staring at her with a bemused expression.

"Not that I'm not happy you're here, but really."

"There were ghosts."

"Sure."

"This time they sounded menacing."

He smirked and reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. "Then you'll have to stay here."

She felt she had no choice really. She certainly couldn't face the demons in the hallway. She was sure the Lord would understand.

"We should um, sleep head to toe?"

"Shut up, Bennett. I'll behave. I swear."

"Um, well, okay. But you stay over there."

"I understand."

X

The light filtered in, and she awoke at the heat of it on her face. She instantly internally screamed, for she remembered where she was and knowing that it was light out meant that it was well past five. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand.

It was eight.

Lord.

She then realized there was a weight around her that felt unfamiliar. She looked down to see the strong manly hands wrapped around her, and she realized she was being spooned. She murmured a prayer.

"Oh come on, Bennett, I just woke up too you know. I'm sorry, but you don't have to atone for a sin you know. We didn't have sex."

She whipped around, which was an awkward maneuver, and slightly slapped his shoulder, noticing to his relief that he was still wearing his t-shirt and, she hoped, shorts. She instinctively glanced down to make sure her robe remained.

Thank Jesus.

She scowled. "Why did you let me sleep so late?!"

"As I explained, I just woke up too. I think it was because you moved."

"Why on earth are we spooning?"

He sighed as he rolled onto his back and stretched out his arms. "I have no idea. Probably just instinct. It's been awhile since I've slept with someone."

She pushed down the feelings that arose at those words and merely said, "Well, then. But I'm not sure if the others will understand."

"Who cares what they think?"

"I do. They're my friends. My family. And if they think we…"

-"Bennett, they traveled and worked a case yesterday. I'm sure they're not up. And even if they are, they probably think you're still in your room. Just sneak you're way back in there." He chuckled and playfully nudged her arm.

She felt herself relax slightly but was still a bit worried. The thought of her friends even thinking that they were up to anything filled her with terror. And they had been so chaste. Why, if someone had thought they did anything they might as well have, and maybe then she would have at least had an orgasm.

"Bennett, why did you just slap your hand over your mouth?"

She instantly sat up and scurried out of the room.

X

"So, everyone sleep well last night?"

Shirley stilled as she accepted the plate of eggs from Britta, who was grinning knowingly as she scanned the faces around the table.

How on earth did she know?

Well, there was nothing to know. They had been innocent.

She cleared her throat and said, "I'm sure everyone slept very well, thank you."

"I'm not so sure about that." Britta bit her lip and tried to suppress a laugh before she began eating her breakfast.

"I don't know what on earth you mean by that."

Detective Butcher chimed in, "We have a big day coming up, don't we? As I understand it, we're to meet Abed and Audrey at the diner around ten, and then we'll split up once again into teams. Britta, you're going to meet with campus security and go over any video footage," Britta nodded and the Detective turned toward Jeff and Annie, "You guys are to make sure Abed and Audrey don't screw up interviewing the students, sort of supervise them but don't let them know you're doing that," Jeff and Annie indicated their agreement before eyeing each other for a second and then blushing, "And Bennett and I will talk to the Dean, who recently returned from a vacation."

Shirley thought that seemed like a good plan. She took a moment to regard Jeff and Annie, feeling as if something had changed between them. She felt a warmth in her heart as she considered that perhaps Abed had been right. They had been under one roof for a night and there had been perhaps an emotionally cathartic conversation. . And to think she had some part it made her joyful.

And of course there had been bed sharing. She and Detective Butcher hadn't engaged in any nonsense, so that didn't need to be dealt with. Abed wasn't right about everything, although she paused to consider the emotional moment she and the Detective had shared before they had retired for the evening.

And the spooning. She had enjoyed the spooning.

She ignored the Detective's attempts to catch her eye but felt him watching her the remainder of breakfast.

Well at least there had been no smut.

X

On their way out of the mansion, Shirley pulled Jeff aside, letting the others make their way toward the vehicles.

"Yeah, what?" He looked down at her with an irritated expression and waited.

She whispered with a sense of glee, "Soooo? You and An-nie?"

He instantly paled and shook his head almost violently.

She felt the disappointment fall over her, and she remarked, "I told An-nie to talk to you. I was hoping you two could work things out. I might have looked forward to you two being an item from now on."

At this, Jeff's shoulders oddly relaxed and he let out a low laugh, which continued for longer than was perhaps reasonable. She waited him out, and he finally said as he wiped a tear from his eye, "Oh, right. I thought you were insinuating something else."

"Oh please, I don't listen to Abed with his tropes. Plus when he mentioned the," she glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot as she said," _smut_ I knew that lunatic was way off base. But I was hoping you and An-nie had a cathartic conversation." She looked up at him with her soulful eyes hoping he'd see how much he disappointed her.

He gave her a soft smile and then leaned down to whisper, "I'll let you in on a little secret. We did. We talked things over, and we've decided to give being together a shot. Thank you."

She squealed, "Really? Why, Jeffrey, that's wonderful!"

She pulled him into a hug, and he said, "We were going to tell you soon, but we didn't know when was a good time with the case today and all."

"Oh, I'm so happy!"

They pulled apart, and she asked, "So it was cathartic?"

He glanced over in Annie's direction, and they both noticed she was watching them while fiddling with her hair.

"It was very cathartic. Very cathartic indeed."

X

At the diner, Abed scanned everyone at the table. As he was about to say something, both Jeff and Shirley loudly cleared their throats and made menacing looks in his direction.

He merely shrugged and said as he accepted a cup of coffee and pie from the waitress, "I had an interesting night. Didn't I, Audrey?"

Audrey giggled in response.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Abed, you promised!" Shirley gave her him her best judgmental glare.

Really.

He furrowed his brow for a second and then said, "Oh, that. No, Shirley, I was just asking Audrey because she got here earlier than you guys did and I already filled her in.

They all regarded him with curiosity.

He explained, "I had a dream last night. A very interesting one. There was a dwarf. His arms bent back."

Shirley exchanged alarmed glances with her friends and then said, "Abed, please."

"The dwarf was Troy."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The investigation proceeded, despite Shirley's concerns about Abed's mental stability. Britta had squeezed her hand under the diner table during Abed's elaboration on his odd dream, and later after Abed and Audrey left, opined in the parking lot about how this whole thing was Abed's attempt to come to terms with losing Troy.

"It's a classic projection." She smiled smugly, and to Shirley's irritation seemed to almost revel in the possibilities for therapizing.

Well, she made sure to let that girl know that she was very much concerned about Abed, and then she turned to Jeff and silently pleaded with him.

Jeff groaned and looked up at the sky, his hands in his jean pockets. He finally returned her gaze and said, "Actually, I think Britta has a point."

"You are not serious, Jeffrey?"

He regarded her for a few moments, and his eyes softened.

"Yeah, unfortunately, I am. He's been having a hard time since Troy left." He paused and gave Britta a reproachful look, "But that doesn't mean I think you should get all in there and therapize him. At least not right now. I'll talk to him."

Well, that made her feel better. At least he understood they needed to handle this delicately rather than with Britta's sledgehammer. She was reminded of how Detective Butcher had echoed her concerns and offered to help Abed. She warmed at the thought that perhaps the Detective, who was sitting off to the side listening, and Jeff could end up being friends. She really wanted her whole family together.

Family.

Right.

Detective Butcher wasn't her family.

And her kids. They needed her.

She snapped her attentions back and gave Jeff a thankful smile, and he patted her on the shoulder.

With an expression of smugness that didn't really fit the question, Britta suddenly addressed Jeff, "Aren't you and Annie supposed to be with Abed and Audrey anyway?"

Annie, who had been standing back during the conversation thus far, carefully stepped forward and crossed her arms as she explained, "You heard what Abed said. He wants us to catch up with them later. He, um, suggested Jeff and I have some alone time before we debrief about any interviews they conduct." She smiled sheepishly, her cheeks noticeably reddening, and then she glanced down at the concrete.

Britta nodded and remarked, "Oh, yeah, you guys definitely need more alone time. And probably lots and lots of space."

Through grit teeth, Annie looked up and said, "Shut up, Britta."

At this, Shirley frowned and glanced back and forth between Annie and Jeff. She was puzzled, for she thought everything had been resolved, but she supposed drama tended to follow their group.

She asked with a sigh of disappointment, "Space? Now don't tell me you two had a fight. Why, you just got together."

Annie's eyes widened. "You know?"

She supposed they hadn't had time to debrief, and her heart warmed at the thought that she and Annie had so much on which to catch up. She was looking forward to hearing all the details of the emotionally cathartic conversation, because for some reason Jeff hadn't seemed that forthcoming about any of it.

She also felt a pang of guilt at having mentioned anything, for she wasn't sure if they had wanted to be discreet.

With a throat clear, she replied, "Yes, Jeff told me this morning. It's so nice." She paused and then added, "I am so sorry if Britta wasn't supposed to know."

Annie and Jeff exchanged odd glances, and then Britta snorted.

That didn't make any sense at all.

She whipped around to face her and asked, "Excuse me? What on earth?"

Britta shrugged and seemed to try to stop herself from laughing, which was frankly pretty rude. And it seemed strange the way Annie stepped over and stomped on her foot.

"Oh!"

"Sorry."

Jeff then immediately pushed his way in between them, and placing hands on both of their shoulders said, "Ladies."

"Bite me."

Jeff squinted at Britta, and it seemed like old times. Annie then shivered a little under Jeff's touch and smiled coyly, which elicited an eye roll and some snark from Britta.

"Get a room. And this time, get a hotel. I need to get some sleep."

X

She was sitting in her car, and at the creak of the passenger side door, she didn't even look up.

"I'm sorry, Shirley."

She shook her head and um hmmmed disapprovingly, not knowing what to say. To know her dear friends had sinned under Detective Butcher's roof was so disrespectful. She almost wouldn't have believed it if it hadn't been for Annie and Jeff's obvious guilty reactions at Britta's words and then all of Jeff's yelling.

She slowly turned toward Annie and asked with some tentativeness, "You two slept together?"

"Yes."

"Emotional catharsis or um, smut?"

"Shirley, I…."

"Never mind. I understand."

Her heart fluttered for a moment, which confused her, and she attempted to suppress some inappropriate thoughts she was having about how exciting it might have been.

Jeffrey was certainly built.

No, no, no.

She scowled, and said, "It isn't right, what you two did. You were supposed to talk to each other."

Annie smiled weakly and said with a tremble in her voice, "We did. I took your advice and poured out my heart to him, and he told me about how he opened the door to the underground bunker. We both said I love you."

Well, she was certainly glad to hear that.

Love was love.

Aloud, she said with a tear in her eye, "Oh, honey, that's wonderful."

"And it was all due to you. I can't thank you enough."

She let this comment sit for a few moments, and while it made her feel warm and appreciated, for some perhaps stupid reason she couldn't let the other stuff go.

"You two sinned."

She instantly smacked her hand over her mouth, but Annie already appeared hurt and perhaps more than slightly irritated.

Annie took a deep breath and then said, "Jeff and I don't see it that way. It seemed a natural expression of our love. It was amazing, and it felt so right, Shirley. And it wasn't a one-time thing. I hope you can understand."

She slowly removed her hand and considered this. She supposed the two have them had made a commitment to each other, for they had known each other for so many years already. Perhaps this was going to be okay.

She murmured, "I suppose that makes things slightly different."

Annie nodded, her shoulders relaxing.

"But we're very sorry that we put you in this awkward position. I know it's not our house, and I suppose we got swept away in the romance of it all."

The girl was now fluttering her lashes and staring at her doe-eyed.

She let out a huge resigned sigh and pulled her into a hug.

"It's okay, An-nie. I forgive you."

"Thank you, Shirley."

"But please, promise me you'll get engaged soon."

Annie pulled back from the embrace and squeaked.

"What is it, pumpkin?"

She stared at her with almost a look of horror.

"I'm not ready to get _engaged_! We haven't really even gone a date! And I live in DC, and oh god, I …." She began fanning herself and appeared to have trouble catching her breath.

With a firm pat on the hand, Shirley said, "Now, I am sure you and Jeff will figure it out. You probably should go on a date. But really, you two know each other so well," she added with a lilt in her voice, "I wouldn't be surprised if there were wedding bells in the very near fu-ture."

She could feel the grin in her cheeks, and she couldn't understand why Annie didn't seem as enthusiastic.

There was a rap on the window, and spying Dev – Detective Butcher sitting there with an empathetic smile, she turned and rolled it down.

"Everything okay?"

She cast a glance at Annie, who was staring ahead in a bit of a daze, and then nodded. "I think I may have overreacted. I'm sorry I made such a scene."

His smile now broadened, and he chuckled to himself for a few moments before he said, "It's okay. And it was my house, and really," he craned his neck to see past her and said, "Annie, it's fine. You didn't bother me that much last night. If anything, I was happy that my home could once again be a place for love."

Shirley again felt the flutter in her chest, but merely turned to see Annie's reaction. She was still blushing, but let out a sigh and gave a nod, clearly still embarrassed. Shirley supposed that it was a good healthy reaction to this whole situation, and she really hoped her wise words had sunk in. She silently made plans to get those two a dinner reservation somewhere and take Jeff to a jewelry store.

Annie said, "Thank you, Detective Butcher."

As Shirley began to bask in this nice moment, Detective Butcher's words sunk in. She whipped her head around and snapped, "Did you just say they didn't bother you _that much_ last night…you _were_ happy your place was again used for love?"

His eyes widened, and he inched his chair back.

"Um, yeah."

"You knew those two were up to their antics?! You let me think there were _ghosts_! Why, you were making fun of me!"

"Now, Bennett, I …."

"And to think I shared a bed with you!"

She barely registered the creak of the passenger side door as Annie discretely exited.

X

X

She and _Detective Butcher_ made it to campus a little after eleven. Although that poor fool of a man kept insisting he hadn't been making fun of her, she would not have it and made sure to hold out the palm of her hand at him and look in the opposite direction the entire way to campus. He might think her being scared of ghosts was funny, but it was not amusing at all.

And to think she had even briefly entertained the idea that he could have given her an orgasm. She considered Annie had obviously had her share last night, and that thought filled her with a sense of fury she just didn't understand.

She let out one more _uh uh_ as he attempted to apologize yet again, and then smacked his shoulder.

They exited the van, for she had given her car to Jeff and Annie. Britta had insisted on attempting to navigate the Atlanta public transportation system, and she noticed Jeff hadn't seemed that eager to give her a ride anyway.

Neither had Detective Butcher.

Detective Butcher lowered his chair to the ground and then began the process of closing up the van as he said, "Bennett, I just want you to know that I wasn't trying to tease you."

"Then what on earth were you doing?"

He sighed and turned toward her.

"I didn't think it was my place to tell you what was really going on. Britta told me that you wouldn't approve, and I guess none of us wanted you to be upset."

She considered this and crinkled her brow in frustration.

"But I'm not that judgmental am I? Why I just told An-nie that I was happy for her and Jeffrey."

Seeming to be surprised for some reason, he said, "Well, that's wonderful."

"And that as long as they got engaged soon, all would be right with the Lord."

He groaned and snapped, "See, Bennett? This is why no one tells you things. As wonderful as a baker and quasi-detective you are, this pious crap has to stop. The people in your life love you so much and maybe _want_ to tell you things, like really want to open their soul to you, and you won't let them. No, you get all high and mighty, like saying marriage is the fundamental institution, and then they have to resort to schemes and hide things from you, just to get you to stay in their life! It's damn frustrating!"

He suddenly stopped and his eyes widened, likely matching her own. She didn't know what to say. He certainly wasn't making any sense. He didn't know her friends that well, and while she was still upset with the shenanigans and secrecy from everyone last night, she was sure that her friends weren't keeping other secrets from her. She supposed he must have meant Abed.

She shook her head and patted his arm as she said, "Now, if you're talking about Abed, he's not running a scheme. That boy honestly believes his nonsense. I've told you about the claymation."

Detective Butcher smiled oddly and then shrugged. "Right. Of course. We, um, should probably get back to the case."

X

While Abed and Audrey had already interviewed Dean Grassley and the Detective had talked to him once before near the beginning of the investigation, Shirley wanted to meet the man and form her own impressions.

She and the Detective were called in by the administrative assistant, and they entered the Dean's office. It consisted of a small sofa, a chair with low table, and a desk near the far wall, where a petite-framed man with short black curly hair sat waiting them with a big smile.

"Hello! I'm the Dean!" He rose and walked over to them, eagerly shaking both of their hands.

"It's so good to meet you Mrs. Bennett, and why, it's delightful to see you again, Detective Butcher! Why I can't forget your face! And our chat the other day about the unfortunate circumstances," He made a tskign sound as he continued to grip the Detective's hand tightly, something that Shirley did not understand. 

The Detective winced as the Dean finally let go, and then he stared at him, a strange expression on his face. There was a long moment of awkward silence, as the men appeared to study each other.

Finally, Detective Butcher cleared his throat and said, "Right. Our conversation."

"Yes, we had such an interesting talk!" The Dean then motioned for Shirley to sit on the sofa, and he hunkered down in the chair as he added, "It's such a ghastly business. You know, murder. But maybe it was an accident?"

She lowered her voice, "He was stabbed."

"Oh right, silly me."

Dean Grassley shrugged and smiled with embarrassment, glancing at Detective Butcher for a moment before addressing Shirley.

"Now, Mrs. Bennett, I'm not sure what else you want me to say. I spoke with your colleague here the other day, and I think we about covered everything. Bumbles, err, Randy I guess was his name, was one of our campus characters, but it was certainly shocking that this happened."

Shirley nodded and took out her notepad and pen as she asked, "I just have a few more questions, as I've had some conversations with our case consultant, and he wanted me to verify some things."

"Ah, yes, Mr. Nadir. He is an odd fellow, isn't he? He kept asking me about Bumble's hair."

Shirley smiled sweetly and asked, "Did Randy have any unusual sideburns?"

"As I told Mr. Nadir, I couldn't recall. I asked around though."

"And?"

"His professors say he would at times have sideburns, but they don't recall them being unusual. When he died, he didn't have any long sideburns. Just short stubby ones. I guess sometimes we just don't notice these things. He wore lots of hats."

She perked up at this information and, feeling a rush of excitement that she would likely later chastise herself for, inquired, "Top hats?"

"Why yes, sometimes he would sport one. But then he became interested in berets. Poor man was trying to get attention, I'm afraid." The Dean placed his hand on his chest and shook his head in pity.

He added, "But why do you ask?"

She jotted down the information in her notebook, feeling Abed would appreciate it.

Lord, what was wrong with her?

She explained, "We had a similar character at my community college in Greendale, Colorado."

"You went to Greendale? Why give my love to Dean Pelton."

She startled and asked, "You know my dean? How on earth?"

"We've met at the annual Dean Convention USA. He's a delightful man, even if he doesn't have any hair. The poor man."

Dean Grassley smugly patted his luscious curly locks.

X

Shirley sprinted up to Jeff and yanked on his sleeve.

He looked down at her and said with affected disdain, "What? Oh, it's you."

"Who else would it be?"

"Anyone. I tower over all of you."

She scrunched up her nose, and he smirked and motioned for her to sit down on the bench in the campus quad. They had arranged to meet up while Annie got coffee in the cafeteria with Abed and Audrey. Britta and Detective Butcher were in the campus library reviewing Britta's morning research.

"You talked to him?" She looked up hopefully, knowing that Jeff wouldn't let her down.

He let out a wearied sigh and replied, "Yeah. You were right to be concerned."

"Of course I am."

"He's in deep. Like twelve cherry pies deep."

She shook her head and clutched her bag as she murmured, "What are we going to do?"

"I think the only thing we can do. We know Abed. He will never let something go, no matter what. This is just like the claymation episode. We have to play along."

"Did you just say episode?"

"Sorry, I meant fiasco. Whatever. I spent too much time with him this morning. He's pretty intent on deciphering his dream. So far he's talking about holing up at the lodge tonight with Audrey seated outside to make sure no giants appear."

"Dear lord in heaven. What do you think is up with that girl?"

Jeff pursed his lips and patted his fist on the table.

"That's actually the part that bothers me the most. I have no clue."

She cocked her head and widened her eyes.

With a groan of resignation, he said, "Fine. I'll get her alone and have a nice menacing lawyerly chat."

"Thank you, Jeffrey."

They gave each other reassuring smiles, and she knew things would be okay.

Jeff's expression then faltered, and she knew what was coming. She was surprised it had taken so long, but she supposed Jeff had a long history of avoidance. Well, he had better know he couldn't avoid Shirley Bennett. She was a baker after all.

"Shirley, I'm sorry about last night."

"You are?" She eyed him suspiciously and slightly lifted her nose and turned so he could regard her profile.

He cracked his neck and stared up at the sky for a moment before he answered, "Well, not really. But I'm sorry you were upset at being kept in the dark. I suppose I could have just told you, even if," he rolled his eyes, "everyone knows how you would respond."

"Now that's not true!"

They both instantly turned and regarded each other intently.

"Isn't it? Come on Shirley, you cannot tell me you'd condone premarital sex."

She preened herself a little, having worked this all out in her head thus far, at least she thought she had. She lightly poked his shoulder and then said, "I'll have you know, I'm fine with it. I already told An-nie so."

He squinted at her in disbelief. After a throat clear, he said, "Right. She mentioned that, but why do I think that's not the full story? I got the distinct impression she had omitted something, and frankly, she's been a little skittish all day. What the hell did you say to her?"

At this, she didn't know what to think. She shook her head and murmured, "I don't know. I told her you have my full support, and that I was looking forward to hearing about the engagement." With a glint in her eye, she added, "Speaking of, there's a great jewelry shop on fifth. Let's sneak over there tomorrow. I think I know what she would like!" She playfully interlaced her hands and awaited his enthusiasm.

He was staring at her, his head slowly cocking to the side the way it did when he was about to rattle off some Winger points. But to her surprise, he merely opened his mouth and remained silent.

"Jeff? What do you think?"

He visibly gulped and then closed his eyes. "I need some water."

Her heart sank. "You don't want to marry her?"

His eyes flew open. With the hint of a sputter, he replied, "No, that's not it, it's just…damn it, does she not want to? That's why she's been so weird today? Oh my god, of course she doesn't, I'm just dragging her down, and then there's my crap history of proposing to people when I shouldn't. You know better than to encourage that! Christ, Shirley, what the hell am I gonna do?"

"Jeffrey, please calm down. We can figure this out."

Suddenly, Dean Grassley was standing at the end of the table and smiling at them as he chirped, "Mrs. Bennett! Why, I had no idea you were still on campus, but then I spotted you from my Dean window and well I just had to come over and say hello, now didn't I? And meet your um, attractive friend."

He offered his hand, and Jeff, appearing to startle out of his perhaps not-that-low-key panic, familiarly smirked as he shook it. She briefly wondered if they went over this thing at Dean conventions.

"Jeff Winger, friend and associate of Mrs. Bennett and Detective Butcher."

"Dean Grassley. So pleased to meet you. My, do you work out?"

Jeff smiled tightly and nodded, and the Dean continued to stare at his arms, which Shirley supposed she understood. She had been wrestling with a lot of her church teachings lately, which was something she didn't like to think about.

In her gut she knew she had been wrong about judging Troy and Abed's 'strange little weird' friendship, at the time feeling that she needed to shut it down for it hadn't seemed right. And the Dean's harassment of Jeff had been easy to criticize, for harassment was not okay. But if he and that nice if not high-strung Dean Spreck decided to settle down, why she wouldn't be against it necessarily.

And if Troy and Abed were to reunite, why poor Abed might finally be whole again.

Love was love.

And she could appreciate a good bicep with the rest of them. She followed Dean Grassley's' gaze, and was only interrupted by Jeff's throat clearing, and she looked up at him and shrugged as he smiled at her in bemusement.

Oh, Jeffrey. Like old times.

It was then that Abed slid in next to her at the table.

"Shelly says she'll make me a special pie to eat tonight, and Audrey's going to help by making sure no one enters my room."

Shirley furrowed her brown and shook her head, whining as Jeff patted her hand in an attempt at reassurance.

It was then that Abed looked up and appeared to register Dean Grassley's presence. He cocked his head, and the flicker of interest flashed across his eyes. He said, "Dean Grassley. We meet again."

"Ah yes. Why, good to see you."

"It's Mr. Nadir."

"Why yes, of course. I just didn't think we needed to be so formal."

"Interesting. Parallels."

Abed began to take out his digital recorder, when Audrey came bounding up to them and practically plopped herself into Abed's lap, but was rebuffed at the last minute and sulkingly sat to his left. She turned to regard the Dean, and she suddenly lilted a little to the side.

Abed caught her before she fell.

X

They all hovered around the bed, fretting beyond belief. Shirley was almost beside herself in worry, for even if she had been suspicious of the poor girl, she certainly new a proper faint when she saw one. And the girl was so pale, she was probably anemic or something.

Or maybe she had seen a ghost.

For some reason Shirley couldn't shake that thought, and glancing over her shoulder with a shiver, she made the sign of the cross.

"Mr. Nadir?"

Everyone hushed their murmurs at the realization that Audrey had begun to wake, and Abed scooted his chair over to her cot in the community college health center. He clasped her hand and said, "Audrey? I'm here."

She smiled weakly and fluttered open her eyes.

"Thank god. I love you."

"Now, now, let's not get into that right now. You need some rest. Why, we've been worried sick about you."

"You've been worried? Don't be babe, I saw the dwarf, and he says hello. He sent me to you. He loves you too."

At this, Abed let out a soft squeak and clasped her hand tighter.

"You need to talk to Bob. He knows," she gasped for a breath and continued, "the truth."

"What truth, Audrey?"

"He's not the same man."

"Bob?"

"He moves like he is, but it's all wrong."

With that, Audrey closed her eyes and fell back to sleep. Shirley eyed the IV in her arm and Nurse Raquel's hand moving back, having injected what appeared to be a sedative into the bag.

"She needs to rest."

X

They returned to the diner that evening to recap, Abed having stayed behind on campus for while with Audrey, whom the nurse said would need to take it easy once she awoke. Abed was supposedly making plans for Audrey's parents to pick her up, insisting that Jeff not do so, stating that it was his responsibility.

Everyone around the diner table listened to Britta's assessment of her research so far.

"Bumbles was definitely dealing marijuana. He had a distribution network set up. I plotted out the schematics."

Balancing Daniel's carrier on her lap, she proceeded to pull up a gibberish-looking graph on her computer, and Jeff nodded politely as he sipped his coffee.

Shirley exchanged looks with Detective Butcher and silently mouthed her wishes for him to indulge her and then smiled sweetly as she said, "Thank you Brit-ta. This is very helpful."

Britta nodded as she regarded them all from the tops of her glasses. "And rumor has it he was wanting to get into meth. But he hadn't been able to set up a decent lab."

At this, Shirley bristled and she exchanged alarmed looks with Jeff and Annie, who were both likely thinking the same thing.

Annie squeaked, "Like Starburns!"

She shook her head and said, "Shush, honey. I'm sure it's only a coincidence. Make sure you don't talk about any of that nonsense once Abed gets here."

Annie began to gesture animatedly, her voice rising as she said, "But Shirley, this is crazy. We're at a community college again, there's this weirdo middle-aged drug dealer victim who wears weird hats, the Dean is clearly wanting Jeff—"

Jeff smirked and took her hand to give it a squeeze, and she rescinded it and mouthed, _"No!"_

He grinned giddily, and Annie continued, "This whole situation is absurd. Even Abed couldn't script this."

Shirley considered this, and reluctantly admitted, "I wouldn't put it past the boy. Why, it almost seems as if we were in a play."

Reddening slightly for some unfathomable reason, Detective Butcher cleared his throat and said in a commanding tone, "Now people, I suggest we focus. We talk to Abed and get him some help. Clearly he has mental troubles, and…"

It was then that Abed came storming through the doors of the diner, clearly out of breath. His hair and suit were drenched from the rain, which had overtaken the city within the last few minutes, and he practically limped over to the table.

Everyone turned in concern.

"Abed? Hon, what on earth?! Are you okay?"

There was a flash of lightening and then the power went out, engulfing them all into darkness.

Abed gasped, "It's Audrey. She's been kidnapped."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **A/N: Profuse apologies for the delay! Life overtook me! I tried to come back to this a month ago, and then EIB beckoned. No worries, I'm back. :)**

 **I don't know if anyone's still reading this, but it continues to amuse me.**

She didn't know how she had gotten into this mess. Everything happened so quickly, and really it made no sense.

The storm was still raging, and she gripped her purse tighter in an attempt to steady herself. She hated storms. They never ended well, with all the noise. With all the mess.

With all the wetness.

She murmured a frantic prayer, and tried to hold firm. She would not be tempted. No, she would not.

She was a good Christian woman.

"Bennett, good news. I found the lantern."

With a polite appreciative smile, she lifted her head, comforted by the fact that Detective Butcher was wheeling his way toward her in the dark, his face now illuminated by the lantern he balanced on his lap. She always wondered why he didn't use the automatic power on his chair, but then again if he did so he likely wouldn't have the sculpted arms he currently did.

No, no.

She looked away, and he chuckled.

"What is it? Light too bright for you?" He came to stop at her side and playfully swung the lantern back and forth, his blue eyes gleaming.

Beautiful baby blues.

She never really found Gary's that mesmerizing, but she supposed she did have an appreciation for Jeff's. Gary was clearly in friend territory and was just too pale for her to seriously consider him as a romantic partner as they would look absolutely ridiculous together and she did get a glare off him if he stood in the sun (which fortunately the poor boy didn't do that often as he would fry like a crisp), but she never really found Gary sexually interesting. She mostly found his Nordic jokes amusing and felt at her core they were soul-buddies, even if no one else seemed to understand. Jeff was a different matter, as he was a bit more conventionally attractive and he wasn't nearly as pale. She found his overreliance on spray tanner to be a bit offensive, as it indicated he could benefit from White privilege while still co opting exoticness, but she didn't like to dwell on that since she was certain he never thought of it that way. Plus Jeff had always been safely in the Team Britta category and then of course more very, very recently Team Annie. He hadn't been her man to covet.

Well, she might covet him a little. But that was purely because he pranced around in his way. He enjoyed it, that exasperating man. But she covetted him from a comfortable distance, and she knew he was safe.

Detective Butcher was different. He certainly didn't try to flaunt himself, and the poor man was in a wheelchair. She honestly couldn't figure out what was the matter with her when she was around him. Yes, he had muscles and yes, he had kind eyes. He had a tragic backstory, as Abed would say, and she supposed one might feel some pity for him. But she knew it wasn't really that. She had been enthralled by his tenacious pursuit of his wife's killer and of his fight to regain the use of his legs, something that the doctors had said could very well be possible. She felt so awful that it hadn't happened and that he was likely stuck this way. He used to be an avid athlete, a skier even. She bet he would have liked Colorado with all the mountains. She had a brief thought she'd like him to come with her to take a skiing trip near Greendale but then resigned herself to the fact that he would never be able to ski again.

But she wasn't sure if he felt that badly about it. He had seemed to have adjusted nicely, but she could sense his discomfort when he asked her to get something up high for him, as he would often whimper when she stretched to reach a jar in the kitchen, or as in that time in the bath when he had made that awkward comment about her potentially falling in with him. He'd get all flushed, his white skin (definitely just the right kind of white for her tastes) betraying his emotions. And of course there were their long talks about suspects, life, love.

Love.

No, she couldn't be in love with him. That was absurd. She had only known him less than a year. They were colleagues now, friends even. But lovers? That was insane.

She made the sign of the cross.

"Bennett, do we have to do this again? Snap out of it."

The annoying clicking of the Detective's fingers near her nose startled her out of her thoughts. She groaned and then said, "I was just thinking."

"Want to tell me about it?"

He placed the lantern on the side table, which luckily was just in between them, and tilted his head to wait for her to confess.

Well, she certainly wasn't going to do that. It wouldn't be helpful in this situation, as they had a crisis to which to attend.

"What on earth are we going to do?" She stared at him, hoping he'd provide some solace in this terrible situation. The fact that he had been teasing her provided her with some hope that he had a different view on recent events. Either that or he was using humor as a way to distance himself from some unspeakable horror.

The subsequent loud clearing of his throat did not fill her with confidence. With a shifting of his eyes he said, "There's no reason to panic."

"Like hell there isn't. Poor Audrey's been kidnapped, Abed went's been shot, and the whole of the Atlanta swamps have lost power due to this terrible storm! And now we're trapped here in the mansion and I don't know what's going to happen to my friends!"

She found herself sobbing, and uncharacteristically didn't make any attempt to stop. She normally reserved her indulgent emotional moments for when she was alone and she didn't have to worry so much about appearing strong and holding it all together. She could never get this way around her boys because they needed her, she hadn't been able to let herself emote in front of her ill father, and she certainly could no longer be vulnerable with Andre after all their troubles. But here, she supposed even in this awful time, she felt comforted by the Detective's presence.

In between her sniffs, she could hear the wheelchair making its way past the table so that it was almost in front of her. The feeling of his soft warm hands against hers did help, as did his murmurs of comfort.

"We'll figure this out, Bennett. Jeff and Annie took Abed to the hospital. He was only shot in the leg, and he was able to limp his way into the diner. He'll be fine."

She recalled the drama of Abed's declaration of Audrey's kidnapping and how she had doubted the poor boy, figuring he was delusional and the storm was playing tricks on him. But then she had seen the trickle of red from under his pants' leg and had howled with grief and rage. For someone to do this to Abed of all people was abhorrent. Jeff had thrown himself in between them and scooped Abed up, shouting orders for everyone to make room so that he could drive him to the hospital.

Annie had shrieked about calling an ambulance, but Jeff had insisted there was no time, that he had to save Abed. Britta had remained eerily still, her eyes wide as she clutched Daniel's carrier on her lap. Detective Butcher had restrained her from hauling after Jeff and Annie, stating that he thought they'd be in the way and really, given the amount of blood, there likely was no time to waste.

His attitude then didn't jive with his words now, and she suspected he was trying to put a positive spin on things. She wondered if Abed would lose his leg, just as poor Detective Butcher had lost the use of his.

She now more silently let her tears continue to fall.

She didn't quite know how they had gotten back to the mansion. She vaguely recalled Detective Butcher guiding her and Britta out to his van, how they had used some plastic sheeting supplied by Shelly the waitress so that they could not get completely soaked from the unexpected storm, but then the sheeting had been ripped from her grasp, and she had ended up very wet indeed, as had Detective Butcher. Fortunately for Britta and Daniel, they remained dry and were now in one of the guestrooms. Detective Butcher thought Britta seemed to have a bit of shock and had made her a hot tea and sent her upstairs before the power had gone out in the mansion, which had given them a clue that the Atlanta swamps had been completely engulfed in darkness.

She had then been awaiting his return, as he had insisted he could find a lantern he kept for such occasions. That took them up to the present moment.

She finally said aloud, "I hope Jeff and Annie made it to the hospital."

"I'm sure they did."

She disentangled her hands and reached inside her purse for her phone, holding it aloft in some vain attempt at securing a signal. There was none of course, and she sighed and put it away.

The sudden increased whirring wind outside startled them, as they both jerked their shoulders. They then both laughed nervously, and she said, "It's so eerie out there. And it's freezing in here." She shivered and placed her hands over her arms.

"Well, that's because you're wet."

She stared at him, and his face reddened in that cute Celtic way and he stammered, "I mean...we're both wet. Shoot, I meant we got rained on. So um, I suppose we should change into dry clothes."

"Right. We'll go upstairs."

She rose, and then it dawned on her that the Detective wouldn't be able to travel upstairs, as his stair lift was operated by electricity. She bit her lip and looked down at him as he lifted his head and gazed into her eyes.

Those baby blues once again.

It was an odd moment, one they had been experiencing with increasing frequency over the past several weeks, so she supposed it was no longer odd. His hand grazed hers, and she had the sense he was going to confess something to her. She had been having that inkling for some time now.

No, no, no. She couldn't let him do that.

She whispered, "I don't think you should say anything."

His eyes widened at this, and once again he gulped before whispering back, "Please, Bennett, the guilt has been eating me alive. I want to be completely honest with you."

"Detective Butcher, please don't do this. I don't want you to be honest with me, okay?"

"So you know?"

She didn't quite know how to respond. Were they alluding to the same thing or was it completely her imagination? She didn't want to be embarrassed, but she couldn't fathom what else he'd have to say.

Deciding to be brave, she lifted her chin, and realizing he couldn't see her face at that angle, tilted her head back down and said, "Now isn't the time to talk about feelings."

His reaction confused her, as he flushed even more noticeably and then let out soft whimper, closing his eyes in an almost wince.

"Detective?"

"Why _now_ do you have to get it? Why _now,_ when I need to tell you something very important…"

-"Now, I just said, we don't need to talk about it."

He opened his eyes and stared at the floor for several moments, and she waited, not knowing what else to do. He appeared to be experiencing some inner conflict.

"While yes Bennett, I do have feelings for you, feelings I had hoped might be reciprocated but I didn't dare tell you because to be frank I've had the impression that you wouldn't give yourself permission to entertain the idea of _us,_ probably due to some ridiculous religious nonsense which you know really doesn't make any sense whatsoever as you could get a divorce, you're not even Catholic so it's not like your church wouldn't even approve. We could date, it would probably be nice. We could even figure out what to do about your kids. I know you've missed them…"

-"Please, stop."

He finally slowly looked up and she could see he had tears of his own glimmering in the corners of his eyes. There were dribbles of rain falling off the fringes of his hair, and he looked completely vulnerable.

Sexy and vulnerable.

"Bennett, I care about you. That's why I…"

She found herself stepping forward and taking his hands in hers, and as she closed her eyes, she murmured so he would stop speaking, as she didn't know how to think, how to feel.

No, that was a lie. She knew how she felt. It was the thinking part.

"Mmmmmmm."

"Bennett? I have to tell you something else, I…"

-"Mmmmmmm, Detective, no, I …."

There was a crash of thunder and then almost immediate lightening, and it was so intense, bright, and loud, that she had no choice but to jump into his lap.

They clutched at each other, both still shivering from wetness as well as fright. She allowed him to rock her head against his, and they both started laughing, the whole situation was absurd.

"I'm an adult, I swear. I'm not afraid of an ol' storm."

"Sure. Like you're not afraid of ghosts."

She lifted her head back and shot him a judgmental glare. How very dare he.

With a sheepish grin, he said, "Sorry."

"I'm so cold."

At her shiver, he wrapped his arms more fully around her and whispered, "Let's huddle for warmth."

X

Eventually they were able to get situated on the couch, Detective Butcher lying down with Shirley safely ensconced in his spoon. She had found a blanket and they used it to keep warm, in addition to their body heat.

She supposed she could have gone upstairs to get him a change of clothes, but what if the poor man had frozen to death while she was away? What if she had run into a ghost? What if Britta had regained her senses and wanted to talk to her? There were only so many horrible things that could have gone wrong.

She really had no choice but to stay. She had to admit his warmth felt nice, and she could feel her nerves calming by the minute, and the beating of his heart kept her sane as the storm continued to rage.

They didn't talk anymore, only allowing the light from the lantern and the few candles she had found near the blanket illuminate the room in a sensual haze. It was almost dream-like. So much so that she didn't even consider why it might be so cold in Atlanta of all places.

None of that even mattered right now.

What mattered was that she felt safe and warm.

It then occurred to her that he had been on the verge of confessing something to her, something she suspected was in addition to his feelings. Against perhaps her better judgement, she asked, "Detective, what were you going to tell me earlier? I'm sor-ry if I in-ter-rupted you."

The ensuing pause seemed to go on forever. She slowly turned around to face him, and his eyes were wide.

"Good lord, you can tell me. What is it?"

After a sharp intake of air, he managed, "It's about Dean Grassley. And Audrey."

Furrowing her brow, she waited.

He explained, "I met the Dean the other day, when I went to talk to him alone about the case. I know this might sound crazy, but the man we saw today was not him."

She didn't know what to make of this bombshell. These things did not happen outside of fiction novels, outside of television melodramas.

Outside of Greendale. The memory of Dopple-Dean made her shiver once again.

She gasped, "Are you sure? And why didn't you tell me sooner?!"

Seeming to regain some composure, he replied, "I'm sure. And I didn't mention it because I didn't want him to know I caught on. The guy is an imposter. I must admit I needed to do a double-take, as the resemblance is uncanny. But the real Dean has a little crook in his lip, and this guy doesn't."

She certainly believed him, as she knew Detective Butcher wasn't one for flights of fancy. He prided himself on his sense of logic rather than intuition. She was more of the intuitive part of their dynamic duo.

Something then occurred to her.

"My word, is that what poor Audrey meant when she said it was all wrong. That he wasn't the same man?"

He nodded. "I'm pretty sure. Think about it, Bennett. Audrey's a student, and I'm assuming she knows what the Dean looks like even better than me. When she saw him, she instantly fainted. And now she's been kidnapped. My guess is that's not a coincidence."

"And Abed?"

"We'll have to wait until he comes out of surgery, but my bet is he figured everything out and that's why he was shot."

They allowed themselves some silence to let it all sink in. It all made sense, and she considered that she never would have predicted that the case would have taken such a nefarious turn, even though it was a murder case. She had put Abed in danger, and Audrey too. She felt so guilty.

Something else then occurred to her.

She asked, "Wait, you said earlier that you had been feeling wracked with guilt. Why on earth would you feel guilty about not telling me this? I mean I understand why you didn't mention it when we were in front of the Dean but I'm assuming you were going to tell me very soon, perhaps when we were alone. There's no need for you to feel guilty about it."

His eyes widened once more and as he was about to speak, the lights went on and her phone chimed.

She quickly reached for it.

"Shirley? Thank god, I've been trying to reach you."

"Jeff! I'm so sorry, but I had no signal due to the storm. We're back at the mansion. How's Abed?"

There was a pause, and she felt sick.

"He'll be fine."

Jeff's tone was strange to be sure. He sounded annoyed.

"What am I missing, Jeffrey?"

With a long sigh, Jeff explained, "Turns out he wasn't shot by an actual gun. Well, it was a gun, but more of the paintball variety."

The annoyance was instantly contagious. She felt her blood pressure rising.

"You are not serious." She managed to sit up, her mouth setting into a grim line.

"Yeah, I am. Fortunately and unfortunately, but yeah."

"Red paint?"

"Yup."

"MMMMMMMMMmmmmmm."

"Bennett?"

"Not now, Devon!"

There was a scuffle on the other end of the line, and Jeff muttered something laced with profanity (she crossed herself) and Annie squeaked something.

Abed said, "Hello Shirley. All things considered, being shot is not as bad as I always thought it might be. As long as you can keep the fear from your mind. But I guess you could say that about almost anything in life. It's not so bad as long as you can keep the fear from your mind."

Jeff's snapped, "Give me back my phone!"


End file.
